


Jearmin Drabbles

by multibean



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adorable Armin Arlert, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Awkwardness, Bad Cooking, Being Walked In On, Birthday Fluff, Bottom Armin Arlert, Boys In Love, But Mostly Just Fluff Ok, Canon Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasizing, First Kiss, Fluff, Gender or Sex Swap, Hand Jobs, Jealous Jean Kirstein, Jean Is So Caring, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Frustration, Size Difference, Sleepy Cuddles, Some angst, Something Sad Happens Though, Tea, Teasing, Top Jean Kirstein
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 20:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 73
Words: 108,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multibean/pseuds/multibean
Summary: A collection of one-shots centering around my personal favourite SnK ship, Jearmin.* * *This won't follow a chronological order. It does have a very slight storyline, but it won’t be chronological. I hope you guys really enjoy this!! I adore Jearmin, and I just love the thought of Jean taking such good care of Armin. <3 Omg cute.Happy reading!!





	1. Shy

He's too anxious to even hold hands.

They're heading back to the cabin, all exhausted and aching terribly, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto their beds.

"Come on," Jean says discreetly. "You know nobody can see us, right?"

"I-I know," Armin stammers. "I'm just worried..."

"What's there to be worried about?"

He's blushing and hoping Jean won't notice, but of course he does. He doesn't know why he's afraid or what he's even afraid of. Sometimes he wonders if he has social anxiety - he feels like he's afraid of people in general, even his own partner whom he loved dearly.

It's at that moment that Jean grabs his small hand and locks his fingers with his, causing Armin to gasp. Jean's hand is bigger and much warmer than his, slightly calloused and rough but wonderful to the touch all the same. "Jean!" he hisses, embarrassed.

"It's okay," he reassures him as they walk. Armin finds his own timid nature to be a real bother but Jean finds it immensely adorable; he loves to look after this young man who has grown to trust him so much, to hold his trembling hand and take care of him. He doesn't care that their relationship is going to start out slow. He knows he has to be patient with Armin and Armin knows he has to do his best to please Jean in every way he can, even if it means stepping out of his comfort zone.

"We're here. Come on," Jean says, unlinking their hands when they neared the light. None of the trainees had the slightest clue about their relationship, although Eren frequently whined and complained about Armin always wanting to sit by Jean at dinner, feeling as if he was being neglected.

It was almost amusing how everyone groaned and hit their beds as soon as they stumbled through the door, nobody even bothering to get dressed. Today had been the most tolling day yet and Armin can feel a slight burn in every muscle in his body, his calves aching as they tensed with each step.

Before heading to his own bunk, Jean leans close to his ear and whispers, "When it's completely dark, I want you to come over to my bed with me."

"Why?" Armin asks softly, butterflies in his stomach. "I wouldn't feel comfortable enough yet if you... um, you know."

"I won't do anything too forward," he quietly reassures him. "I just want you with me. I swear I won't fool around."

Armin smiles at him. "Okay. Leave your shoes by the side of your bed so I know which one's yours in the dark."

* * *

Of course it was risky. There was no way to be certain that everyone else was asleep. The fact that Bertolt snored was a handy clue, but as for everyone else, they were in the dark - literally.

Armin cautiously creeps from his bed, the floor cold against his bare feet. He had mustered up the energy to change into a loose, comfortable shirt, throwing his clothes beneath the bed as his body completely gave out as soon as he hit the mattress. But now, here he was, getting up again. 

He wanders to the right and before long, accidentally kicks the pair of boots Jean had left by his bed. "Jean," he whispers, and the man sits up in response.

"Hey." He lifts up the blanket and takes hold of his narrow wrist, pulling him into bed with him. "Here. Make yourself comfortable."

Armin smiles as he feels a pair of strong arms enveloping his small frame. "Thanks, Jean."

It's the first time they've shared a bed. Jean notices how calm Armin becomes as he runs his fingers through his golden hair, pressing his nose against his head and inhaling his sweet scent as strong hands wrap around his abdomen. He can tell that he's not nervous now - just sleepy and relaxed, feeling safe within the other man's secure hold, the warmth of the blanket wrapped around them both. They lock their legs together, brushing against eachother.

"This is nice," Armin whispers, leaning his face in closer to Jean's neck and sighing against his collar bone.

"I love you, Armin," Jean says quietly as he strokes the boy's cheek, the words still unfamiliar. He'd only said them once before, knowing full well that actions speak louder than words.

Before long, Armin is falling asleep against him, his chest rising and falling as he takes quiet breaths. Jean slowly pushes a hand up the front of his shirt and he gives a small gasp as he rubs against his stomach, not expecting it. "Sorry if I startled you," he apologised.

"No, it's good," Armin reassures him, tilting his head back so that his blonde locks tickle Jean's chin. "I don't mind it."

"Do you... like it?" Jean whispers in his ear, still rubbing his palm against his skin.

"I do, yeah." It's almost pitch black in the room but he can sense Armin's smile. He has never felt so close to another human before, never felt such an affinity for anyone. He's terrified of losing this precious little angel who he cherished so much, reluctant at the thought of even leaving this warm bed. At this moment in time, everything is just perfect. So soft, sweet and innocent.


	2. First Kiss

It was still possible for them to find solace in the nightmare that was their lives. Through love.

They peer at the pale orange sky, the sun slowly disappearing behind the faraway hills, valleys and mountains. It's a warm evening, but the cool air that rushes past them on their journey back provides a slight chill.

Everyone inside the cart is silent until Jean decides he can't stand the boredom for much longer. "That was a dumb move, Eren. You could've seriously hurt Armin."

Eren growls and shoots him his usual angry scowl. "How was I supposed to know what to do? It's not like I'd ever hurt him on purpose!"

"I know that, but if you're going to take risks, only place yourself in grave danger, okay?" Jean says pompously. "Some of us here -" He takes Armin by his waist and allows him to rest on his lap, much to his surprise - "value our lives very much. Unlike a certain suicidal blockhead here."

"Jean?" Armin says, as he wraps his hands around his waist. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just look at you two," Sasha coos. "You're the cutest couple I've ever seen, I just want to cryyy!"

Armin blushes, his eyes widening. "I-it's not like that!" he insists, although it was pretty obvious at this point.

"Hey, don't be ashamed," Sasha replies. "We all know about it now. It's sweet."

Armin cranes his neck to look at Jean, who holds him tightly. Jean just smiles at him, stroking a hand alongside his thigh.

"We were supposed to keep this on the down low."

"Yeah, I know," Jean says. " _I_ didn't tell anyone. It's just the sort of thing people pick up on after a while. You can't hide it forever."

Armin groans. "I didn't _want_ everybody to know!"

"It's all okay," Sasha assures him. "Nobody thinks anything bad of it. It's nice to see people getting on."

"I suppose," Armin replies, shifting a little to face Jean, tucking his head beneath his chin. Eren stares at them, feeling awkward. "Guys... don't do anything too risqué," he says.

"We won't," Armin replies. "Honestly, Eren. As if we'd do that here for all eyes to see."

"Ooh, have you kissed yet?" Sasha asks, her eyes gleaming.

"Not yet," Armin says hesitantly.

"Who said " _I love you_ " first?" she grins.

"Sasha, stop," Eren says. "Armin's shy. Leave him be. He looks uncomfortable."

"Sorry," she apologises, looking towards the horizon. "Not far to go now..."

* * *

It was getting dark by the time they got back. There was just enough light left for them to make their way back without torches, but not enough that you could make out anyone's face.

"You feeling okay?" Jean asks Armin, the latter of whom nods. He clasps his hand around his and gives it a gentle squeeze, eliciting a delighted sigh from Armin, who feels a lot more comfortable than he did a couple weeks ago.

He feels Jean tug on his wrist, as if he was guiding him somewhere. "Where are you going?" he asks, going along with it.

"Behind the cabin," he tells him. "I just want a little privacy, that's all. It's not easy being around those lot all day."

"You can say that again," Armin agrees.

It was getting harder and harder to see, but the pair of them weren't the slightest bit bothered by it. Jean gently grips Armin by the shoulders and leans into him, pressing his back against the wall. Armin doesn't say a word, just closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the hard wood.

"My sweet boy," Jean says almost inaudibly before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to Armin's. He feels Armin tense a little, not expecting it, but it was such a wonderful sensation that he couldn't help going along with it.

Jean uses a little more force once he knows that Armin is enjoying it, pressing down slightly harder on his lips. He tastes so wonderful and sweet, so pure, and his lips feel like warm silk against his. As his tongue finds its way into the young man's mouth, he thinks of how grateful he is to have met this beautiful person, to have grown so close to him that this sort of exchange between them was possible.

He hears Armin give a small gasp from the back of his throat as Jean snakes his tongue around his, pressing him more firmly against the wall, hands in his hair.

When he finally pulls back, Armin takes a deep breath and stares down at the ground, then looks back at Jean.

"That felt so amazing."

Jean looks at him in admiration and cups his cheeks, gazing down at him, straight into his big blue eyes. "I'm glad you liked it," he says. "Sorry to keep you outside like this."

"No, don't worry about that," Armin says. "I'll go anywhere you want me to."

"Then let's get inside. I'm hungry and tired."

The two wander into the cabin, hand-in-hand, not even caring whose eyes are on them. They feel so different after that precious moment they'd just shared, almost electric. Armin feels his spine tingle every time Jean's hips happen to brush against his. He'd never felt this before, this state he was in that gave him the urge to breathe heavily and lean his body close to his partner's. Something within him felt scorching hot, thirsty, excited. It was new to him and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He'd felt it earlier, too, when Jean had held him close on their way back from training, when he'd gently snaked a hand up his thigh. Whatever this feeling was, he wanted more of it.

Armin yawns and sighs sleepily. "I'm actually kind of exhausted, you know," he tells Jean.

"Go to sleep, then," Jean says kindly, placing a hand on his back.

"Yeah," Armin says, getting up. "I feel like I'm about to pass out right here. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Jean tells him, brushing his fingertips lightly against his as he walks past him. He watches him as he leaves the room, wondering how on earth he'd been so lucky to have crossed paths with such an amazing young man.


	3. Too Kind for a Soldier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight manga spoiler in this chapter, but nothing too major.

Two young men are huddled on a bench behind a wall which faces a small worn patch of grass, a little distance away from the market just up the road. One is slightly large in height and build, and has a rather unapproachable expression about him, although his kindly actions towards the young man beside him seem to imply otherwise. The other's frame is much smaller and slimmer, with thick, soft blonde hair that covers his ears.

"Hey," Jean says gently, taking a tissue out of his pocket and handing it to Armin, who feels like he can't stop crying. "You can't dwell on something like this."

Armin sobs into Jean's shoulder, leaving a damp patch on the upper sleeve of his shirt. "I'm a murderer," he says, feeling distraught. "My hands are dirty. Like Levi said, I can't go back to how I was now."

"You need to understand that this is a dog-eat-dog world," Jean says firmly, taking the boy's small hand in his. "You know I wouldn't be sat here comforting you if you hadn't shot her."

Armin sniffs and a hot tear rolls down his cheek, which Jean wipes away. "I just can't believe I ended someone's life. I know I didn't know her, but she's dead because of me, and-" His words are interrupted then when Jean smashes his lips against his, the other making a noise of surprise when he knocks him right back onto the bench and takes hold of his cheeks as he kisses him passionately.

He can still feel Armin shaking beneath his touch. The sobs are still building in his chest, but he suppresses them, which is much easier when he's sheltered by Jean's warm, strong arms.

Armin suddenly panics and pushes him off, gasping. "People are going to see us!"

"Don't you worry, Armin," he assures him, holding his chin and softly stroking his thumb across his lower lip as he studies his face. "I'm pretty sure we're out of sight."

He still looks incredibly uneasy. "Is it worth the risk?"

"Yes, it is," Jean insists. "You're in a state of distress. Armin, this might just be the worst state I've ever seen you in. You're too kind for a soldier and it's ruining you horribly. So I'm going to help you through this."

Armin gazes at him from where he lays down on the bench. He glances up and looks at the sky as Jean leans forward and plants wet kisses on his neck, gentle teeth leaving slight pink marks on his delicate flesh. When he saw how beautiful the sky looked with its deep blue colour and pale yellow ring on the horizon where the sun had previously set, it made him wonder why he had been born into such a cruel, yet beautiful world.

Jean hears Armin give a sigh of pleasure. He peers at him to see that he has now stopped crying entirely, that look of distress having been replaced by one of contentedness. He can tell that he's still grieving on the inside, but he praises himself on the fact that he can comfort his partner so well, help him relax during a time of great difficulty.

"Jean?" Armin says quietly.

"What is it?"

"Could you..." He bites his lip and fidgets slightly, shifting his position so that his slim legs rest comfortably on Jean's lap. "Could you, um, put your hands on me?"

Jean looks slightly taken aback, but is glad to comply. "Like this?" he asks, gently stroking his hands along the boy's calves.

"Yes, that's nice." He smiles and gives a happy murmur, stretching out a little. Jean lifts the young man's leg up and strokes right along it, admiring its slim shape as Armin gives a small mewl next to him. His hands slowly travel towards his thighs, tickling the sides of his knees and occasionally pinching lightly at his flesh, which Armin responds to by temporarily tightening his grip on Jean's wrist.

He opens his eyes then and looks at Jean, the two of them not breaking eye contact when the strong hands graze gently up the insides of his thighs. Armin gives another small noise, not even bothering to hide the fact that he's actually really enjoying this. It's the same sensation he'd felt quite a while back when the two had had their first kiss, when the hands had snaked into his hair and their tongues had enveloped themselves around eachother, softly and sweetly. That urging and hotness is back again as Jean's fingers and palms rub against the insides of his upper thighs. He feels needy and excited, as if he's close to something he wants to relish but not quite there yet.

"Ahh," Armin breathes.

Jean is smiling knowingly, well aware of what he's doing, and he's pretty sure Armin is too. "You like that?" he asks seductively.

"Yes... Jean." He tilts his head back onto the hard wood.

 _Talk about a change in mood_ , Jean thinks, enjoying Armin's little sighs and pants as he rubs and lightly pinches his skin. He's gone from a crying, sobbing mess, to... well, an entirely different kind of mess. Now he has a light smile on his face, dried tears on his flushed cheeks rather than fresh ones, his mouth parted to allow the sweet sounds of want to escape his throat.

"Jean," he breathes.

"Huh?" he asks, responding to his name as he continues to stroke him, deliberately denying him of what he really wants. "You alright?"

"Jean," he repeats. "Jean..."

He smiles then, realising that he isn't so much trying to get his attention as he is simply expressing his desires. He watches his chest rise and fall with every heavy breath and he doesn't even seem all that relaxed anymore, just... excited. All he knows is that he's pleasing him incredibly well.

"Please, a little further," Armin pleads, unable to take the blatant teasing anymore. "I need... something a little more. Please, Jean, I can't take this."

"Not today," Jean whispers to him. "Only when _I_ know you're ready."

"I'm ready _now!_ " Armin groans. "Jean, you _know_ what you're doing! You're so cruel... my god, I love you."

"I love you too," Jean chuckles. "Ever heard of the saying "cruel to be kind"? That applies to now."

"Hardly," Armin disagrees, a whispered moan escaping from his mouth.

"Oh, you'll see," Jean grins. "I'm sure that when I know you're ready you'll let me have that sweet body _all to myself_... _all_ of it. For _me_."

Armin can hardly take anything more. His words, his gentle caressing, his intimidating yet unbelievably sexy gaze. It's all too much, and he finds it so hard to comprehend that what had started out as a comforting hug has evolved into... this.

"Like I said," Jean continues, this time lightly brushing his crotch, his touch so light that Armin can barely feel it. "When I know you're ready, I can't wait to explore you, to please you, for you to show me that secret place you keep hidden inside of you... _deep inside_ of you."


	4. Fantasy

It was wonderful to finally have individual rooms. The lack of privacy and personal space in a large dorm could get rather frustrating after a while, and whilst it did give rise to more opportunities for social pleasantries, there was nothing like having your own space.

It's 6pm and there's sod all to do. Armin is watching with slight amusement as Jean stands in front of the tall mirror, hands on his hips and head on one side, admiring his own reflection. He raises a hand and scratches at his ash-brown hair, ruffling it up. Armin starts giggling. "You sure love yourself."

"Who else is gonna love me?" Jean asks, grinning. "I have to get my self esteem from _somewhere_."

"Could you share some of it with me?" Armin says. "I hardly have a self esteem at all."

"Of course, but it might take a while. You don't yet realise how special you are."

Armin scoffs, doubting him. He felt like nothing compared to the others, and certainly not compared to his own lover. Horse face or not, Jean was hot.

Jean sighs and heads for the door. "I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm covered in dried sweat and grime."

"Nice," Armin says, looking grossed out. He lays back on Jean's bed and sighs as soon as his partner leaves, closing his eyes. He's aware that everyone knows that he hardly ever spends time in his own room because he's so smitten with Jean that he wants to spend every second of the day with him, but he isn't the least bit ashamed.

The young man's mind begins to drift as he stares at the dark ceiling. He's almost making his own cheeks turn light pink as he imagines what Jean looks like right now, and it suddenly dawns on him that he's never seen him naked, and vice versa. It doesn't bother him, but deep down Armin knows he really, really wants to.

He's seen him shirtless countless times, and every single time had left him in awe at how beautifully sculpted his lean body was. They'd often both held eachother close beneath the covers in nothing more than their underwear, but whenever Jean attempted to slide his hand beneath his underwear, Armin would always gently grip his hand and pull it away. And Jean would always understand.

Right now though, he seriously wants that. He's been wanting it for a significant while, but he's never been able to muster the courage to engage in anything more intimate, as much as the idea appeals to him. He practically drives himself mad with lust and a craving for something more, but denies himself of those pleasures because, to put it simply, Armin was painfully shy. Not always while socialising, but when it came to intimacy, he was scared. As for what he was scared _of_ , he wasn't sure.

But what's stopping him right now? He's overwhelmingly aroused by the image of Jean in his head, the thought of the water droplets rolling down his perfect physique, over the small indents between his abdominals and pectorals. He wants to run his hand over firm, hot wet skin, take in the very essence of his being and lavish every part of his magnificent form.

Armin lets out a breathy sigh as he lowers his hand towards his crotch and gently rubs himself through his clothing, biting down on his tongue when faint sparks of pleasure hit his spine. In his head, all he can imagine is that it's Jean's hand that's touching him, pressing a little harder when he realises how much he's enjoying it, detecting the growing hardness beneath his clothing. It doesn't take long for him to decide that there's no point in feeling shameful about something so normal and trivial that it was unlikely there was anyone in the world who hadn't done it, which he uses to calm himself a little when he pushes off his clothing and begins to stroke his hand along his erected length.

He begins to gasp quietly as he grazes his thumb over the head of his manhood, arching his back the slightest amount in response to the pleasure that soars through him. He's panting and writhing from his own touch as he pumps his hand along his shaft, unable to control his behaviour, succumbing to desires that were long overdue to be fulfilled. "Jean," he exhales as he draws his legs up slightly, fantasizing about how heavenly it will be when Jean's the one to touch him like this, to send him wild and to reveal a more animalistic, lust-driven side to his nature. He wants stronger, bigger hands around him, a pair of eyes that will admire his body as he wails with pleasure. "Jean!" he moans, losing control as he increases the pressure and speed of his hand against his cock. He wants more. _So_ much more.

"Ahhh... hahh..." he exhales as his tip sweats a couple small beads of fluid that run down his length and lubricate his movements. He still has the image of Jean lodged in his mind and right now he just wants him here pleasuring him and satisfying the craving that he can't seem to properly fulfil by himself. He wants to be held tightly and admired as he climaxes and to be pleased so wonderfully that he can do nothing but sob and fist his hands in the sheets.

Armin arches his back and cries out loudly when his orgasm rushes over him and takes over every cell in his body. He's forced to pant and moan as his cock leaks strings of thick hot semen onto his thighs and stomach, his brain practically numb to anything besides the ecstasy that's filling him so beautifully. He doesn't even care if Jean walks in right now, sopping wet and shocked at the sight before him.

In fact, it wouldn't be a complete lie to say that he _wants_ that.

* * *

Armin isn't surprised by how exhausted he is all of a sudden, but he is surprised by how long Jean seems to be taking.

He feels slightly high, as if he's on painkillers. Numb and extremely relaxed, worrying about absolutely nothing. He could just go to sleep right now in Jean's bed, a little surprise for him when he got back.

His long blonde fringe is stuck to his forehead and his palms are damp, a thin layer of sweat coating most areas of his body. He feels warm and calm in a way he's never felt before, his eyelids becoming heavy as the drowsiness begins to take its toll on him. He lifts up the duvet and gets into bed, not worrying about the fact that he was still wearing his regular clothes. Right now, nothing mattered, so he didn't care.

He falls asleep less than two minutes after his head hits the pillow, which is when the door bursts open and Jean is standing there staring blankly into the room. "Hey, Armin?" he says before realising he's sleeping.

 _At six O'clock in the evening?_ he ponders, curious. _I wonder what could have made him so tired this early._

_Yes, I wonder._


	5. Tender

He isn't sure if he's glad about not being able to go outside.

The main thing that's bothering him is that he doesn't feel useful right now. He has been doing everything he can to prove his existence to be beneficial to mankind throughout his life, successfully proving his worth a number of times... and yet here he was, so unwell that he couldn't walk.

"You can't stay here and look after me," Armin says. "I'm going to be fine on my own. I'll just sleep. They need you out there."

Jean ignores him and presses a hand against his forehead, surprised by the burning heat that radiates from his skin. "You're burning up," he says worriedly. "I'll get you a damp cloth if you want, to cool you down."

"Wait, Jean," Armin insists, sitting up. He feels horribly dizzy when he does, and soon lays back down again. "Promise me you won't waste your time here with me."

Jean turns to look at him. "It's either me or someone else," he explains, heading for the door. "Don't fret over anything. They can handle this situation without the two of us."

Armin stares at him as he leaves the room and then sighs, gazing at the ceiling. He hadn't been this ill in years. He hadn't eaten a single morsel of food in two days, he couldn't stand without falling over, and his temperature was extremely high. He did have to admit that spending so much time around his lover was rather nice, especially when he leaned over and brushed his fringe back to plant light kisses over his warm, silky skin. It really did feel wonderful to be held close and taken care of, to be kept inside the safety of the walls instead of having to worry about being eaten alive.

Jean enters the room again with a small flannel and a bowl of lukewarm water. He kneels beside the bed and dips the cloth into the water before ringing it out and then pressing it gently against the boy's skin. Armin tilts his head back, giving a small murmur of relaxation.

"Nice and cool, huh?" Jean says kindly, pulling back the duvet and lifting out his arms to run the coolness against his limbs. Armin gazes at his face sleepily, his face flushed and his eyes glazed. Even breathing feels like a chore.

"Thank you so much for everything you're doing for me," Armin says gratefully. "I wish I didn't have to be such a pain."

"Hey, don't say that," Jean says, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning right over Armin, his face close to his as he studies the tired look in his big blue eyes. "Oh... just _look_ at you, with your pretty face and pink cheeks. I've never seen anyone so adorable. You're a gem."

Armin grins at him. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm being serious. You're beautiful." Jean runs the cloth over his neck and holds his chin as he presses his lips to his, then releases them a few seconds later, leaving Armin panting quietly as if he was asking for more. Jean cherished the taste of him so much, even now while he was too weak to even properly kiss back. He tasted pure and sweet, a little spot of love in this cruel world that was like a hidden diamond amongst the unending carnage and gore.

"Do you think you'll be able to sit up?" Jean asks.

"I can try," Armin replies, "but it makes me really dizzy."

He pushes his hands against the mattress and stretches his arms out, yawning. He sits upright and peers across to the other side of the room, but his vision is blurry and he has a pounding headache.

Jean's gentle hands press against his bare back, easing him forward. "Here," he says, using the flannel to soak up some of the water before ringing it out and pressing it against the young man's back. The coolness and soft, damp touch is such a wonderful relief that Armin can't help smiling. "I wish I could hug you, but it would probably only make you warmer."

"No, please do," Armin replies, needing comfort. "I want you to hold me. For a long time. As long as you can, please."

* * *

Neither of them feels the need to speak. The silence is loud enough.

Jean is pretty sure it isn't contagious, but he couldn't even care less if it was. Nothing can convince him to move.

The pair are in a position somewhere between laying down and sitting up, Jean holding Armin's delicate frame close to him and pressing his face against his hair. He smells sweet and slightly herbal, like sweet tea or some kind of flower. He can't get enough of him.

"Are you sleepy?" Jean asks quietly.

"A little. Just... let me stay here, please. Let me rest against you."

Jean kisses the top of his head, smoothing down his beautiful golden locks. "Of course, sweetheart."

"Please lay with me," Armin requests, pulling the duvet over the two of them. He feels so loved that he can almost ignore the constant nausea and splitting headache, especially when Jean's arms find their way around his waist as he leans into his back, spooning him. At this point, Armin can't stop himself from squealing with delight.

Jean presses his nose against his hair as he speaks, "I'm never going to stop protecting you and loving you for the rest of my life." Their bodies fit together so perfectly - as if they were made for eachother - especially when Jean raises his leg a little to wrap his thigh around the other young man's hip, completely enveloping him with his blissful and protective touch. Jean wants to lie here with him for eternity, to never have to part from his warm, soft body and electric presence.

If he was going to be subjected to love as sweet and tender as this, then maybe being unwell wasn't so bad after all.


	6. Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written from Jean's point of view around the time the two first met.

Nobody said it was going to be easy, but this place is hell on earth already. Not because we're being shouted at constantly and forced to work our bodies to the point of collapse, but because everyone here seems to be dysfunctional in one way or another.

Amongst the underlying terror and dread, there's an idiotic aura circulating around a certain few individuals around me, which I find to be quite aggravating. There's this silly girl who thought it would be acceptable to stand there munching away on a goddamn fucking potato, some wuss who couldn't even do the damn salute properly, and this scrawny little punk who won't stop whining and yelling about how he's going to slaughter every titan on the face of this earth.

I'm just about the only rational one here.

I'm sat in silence, not complaining about the bland taste of the stew I'm consuming, casually peering over at three individuals with my chin resting on my hand. There's that guy again, the one who won't stop shouting about titans, but the two people beside him seem quieter and more mature. The girl is rather beautiful with her shining black hair and pale skin, and I can almost feel my eyes burning into her.

Until I spot the boy next to them.

He's perhaps the smallest of them all. I can't quite tell while he's sat down and I haven't had a chance to take a good look at him yet, but what really draws me in is his adorable, innocent face. I've never seen such big blue eyes, such gorgeous blonde hair and such a sweet smile.

He suddenly looks up then, straight at me. He must have seen me staring out of the corner of his eye. I look away immediately, my stomach turning as my heart rate increases. When I look back, his attention has been diverted, and I'm almost relieved.

Suddenly, I've lost my appetite and I shove my plate away, which causes Marco to give me a rather concerned look. "Jean, you've hardly eaten..."

"It tastes like shit," I growl.

"I can't say I disagree."

Before I can convince myself not to, I look back over at the boy. I know he's the same age as me, but it doesn't seem possible - probably because I look way older than my age. Something about him just looks so pure and kind; he seems out of place amongst us trainees, as if it would be a shame for someone like him to let go of his humanity.

He's a beautiful young man.

* * *

"Um... excuse me..."

A gentle hand pokes my back, and I turn around to see the cute blonde boy. I gasp, my heart skipping a beat. "W-what is it?"

"Do you know where the bathroom is?" he asks politely.

I can feel heat in my cheeks and I can't make eye contact. Looking at him feels so wonderful that I'm ashamed to do it, so I just point over to the right and flop onto my bed. "It's over there."

"Thank you." He smiles at me and wanders away. I decide then and there that I'm never going to talk to him again. He's just too good, too sweet to even be worthy of being around a bastard like me. I've already realised that I have significant feelings for him, not just because he's impossibly cute but because I can tell he's extremely kind and intelligent, a sharp contrast against some of the characters I've had to put up with so far. As much as I want to grow closer to him, just to the stage where he'd feel comfortable having a casual conversation with me, I know I can't do that if I want to avoid getting hurt. There is no way he'd have any sort of interest in me, and that fact alone is already making me bitter.

"Hey... Jean, was it?"

Oh my god. It's him again. What the fuck does he want? Can't he just piss off, with his sweet voice and adorable face and irresistable presence that makes me want to cry? My first reaction is to resort to rudeness, because showing weakness is out of the question. "What?" I snap.

He looks slightly alarmed, but soon smiles at me. "Do you mind if I sit beside you?" I can't pass this up.

"Sure. Whatever," I grumble, and he takes a seat on my bed. "What's your name again?"

"It's Armin," he replies. "Armin Arlert. How are you finding things so far?"

"Not bad." _Don't make eye contact. Avoid those ocean eyes before you get swept away by the waves._

"Me too, but I'm the weakest here, so I have a rough time ahead of me." He clears his throat and scoots closer to me. "I noticed you during dinner yesterday and I was wondering if you wanted to be friends, maybe."

I'm tasting metal in my mouth. Just being in his presence is too much - I can't stop looking at that perfect face, studying his gorgeous features as his arm brushes softly against mine. My heart is thumping so hard that I can feel it in my neck and I'm almost nauseous, so obsessed with him already that it's driving me mad.

"Of course," I eventually reply. "I'm just... I just need a little time to warm up to people, you see."

"I'm exactly the same. I'm shy but I just want to get along with everyone. One of my closest friends gets in a lot of fights, so I'm trying to set a good example." He sighs and lays back onto my duvet, clearly not afraid to make himself at home on my bed. He just told me he was shy, and here he was, being rather forward with me. "Your bed is a lot softer than mine. The springs in mine dig into me, and it hurts."

At this point, avoiding looking at him isn't an option because the burning inside me is overwhelming, screaming at me to take my chances with this young man, to stop putting my insecurities above my needs. I'm watching him as he tilts his head back and curls up on the blanket beside me, a lock of his hair just brushing against my thigh.

"Armin..." I exhale, my heartbeat thumping in my ears.

"What is it?"

"If you really want to get to know me, I'd love that, but why me of all people?" It was as if he _knew_ I had a giant crush on him and was teasing me to see how far I'd go with him.

He gazes at me with his head on one side. "I find you to be likeable. Beneath that angry scowl, I can sense warmth."

_What?_

Armin wraps his arm around my waist and at this point I'm actually shaking. I just know I'm going to be sick. I'm going to be sick all over him and make him hate me.

"Let's be friends, Jean."

I take a deep breath and then hug him, wrapping my arms around his narrow shoulders. He seems so tiny compared to me, fitting so snugly in my hold that, despite my anxiety and shortness of breath, I don't want to let him go. He smells sweet, almost feminine, like some kind of fruit or dessert.

"Y-you're nice, Armin..."

He looks at me and giggles knowingly. I knew it. I goddamn fucking knew it.

He _knows_ that I like him.


	7. Sweet Touch

Armin shudders as the gentle hands graze over his skin. He's warm and comfortable, yet his skin is covered in goosebumps and he's quivering a little, which only encourages Jean to hold him closer.

"Is this alright?" Jean whispers in his ear, ruffling his silky hair.

"Yeah," Armin replies, closing his eyes and relishing in his partner's blissful touch. "It's good."

He isn't as anxious as he initially thought he would be. Sure, it feels different and it's going to take a while to get used to, but he's been longing for this kind of love for a significant while. Now that it's happening, he realises what he's been missing.

Jean simply can't get enough of him. They're mostly covered by the duvet, safe and comfortable inside the layer of warm air that's around them. The blonde gasps slightly at the other young man's touch when he softly slips his hand between his cheeks and tickles his sensitive hole. "Jean," he breathes, reaching up and squeezing his forearm as Jean's index finger strokes and rubs against that sensitive treasure.

Armin leans in closer and whimpers. Jean is watching him intently while he strokes him, curious to see the look on his face as he pleasures him, to hear the gasps escape from his mouth as he begs for more. He adds another finger when he realises how much he's enjoying it, this time pressing inwards just a little.

"Ahh... I like that," Armin tells him quietly, writhing beneath his touch. "I just, um..."

"What is it?" 

"Could you, um, you know..."

He doesn't need to ask what he means. "Of course," Jean agrees. "But, you know, it's going to hurt."

"I know it's going to hurt. I still want it."

"I'll be as gentle as I can. Just one until you get used to it. Tell me if you don't like it and I'll stop, okay?"

Armin nods. "Okay."

Jean lifts his hand to his face and licks along his fingers, leaving them coated thickly with saliva before sliding them between his cheeks again, this time gently pressing into his lover with his index finger, slowly and carefully as he monitors his reaction. Armin bucks his hips up a little and hisses as the digit slides into his body, each millimetre burning him and sending little jolts of pleasure through his being as it stretches out his walls.

"You're so tight. Does it hurt?"

"A little," Armin admits, giving a groan when he pushes in deeper and the burn spreads further. It hurts more than a little, but he knows it won't get any better unless he endures it. He wants this, he really does - he wants the hands to explore every square inch of him, to please him, to own him, to mark him as being in the possession of another.

He gives a little vocalisation when Jean suddenly thrusts his finger all the way into him, his innards parting to accommodate the narrow width that forces them apart. He can feel something more pleasurable amongst the burn when Jean wriggles and strokes his finger against his muscles, a spot somewhere inside that gives him the urge to pant and moan and arch his back. "Jean!" he moans.

Jean is smiling at him. "How does that feel?"

"So _good!_ "

Armin's lover strokes along his bare thighs as the finger inside him slides carefully into him and then out in a slow rhythm, his fingertip pressing into that sweet spot with every thrust. Residue of the burn still remains but it's becoming less pronounced now and easier to ignore as the pleasure becomes more apparent.

"Ohh... _Jean_... my god!"

"Want me to add another?" he offers.

Armin is biting down on his lip so hard that it's not far from bleeding but still manages to mumble a "Yes", his body only becoming more tense as Jean pushes another digit into him and begins to gently finger him with both. The increased circumference means more pain and stretching, but also a _lot_ more pleasure, his partner pressing and digging into his prostate with great accuracy. He's almost surprised by how well he's taking it, his hot damp tightness welcoming the fingers that ease in and out of it.

By now, Armin is a complete mess. He's moaning without restraint and squeezing his thighs around the fingers between them, fisting his hands in the sheets as his body quivers with every hit to his prostate. Jean is loving every second of his little whines as he massages his delicate insides and brings his lover closer and closer to the edge. "Ahh, ahhh, ah... Jean, Jean!" he cries. "My god, it feels... s-so wonderful!" He gives another sharp cry and Jean can feel him tightening and pulsating around his fingers as every muscle in his body contracts with his orgasm. He continues to thrust into him as he climaxes, doing his best to make his pleasure last as long as possible to the point where he can see tears forming around the edges of his eyes.

Armin slumps back onto the pillow and groans, traces of ecstasy still present in his bloodstream after his body relaxes against the bed. Jean slides his fingers out of him and notices that the underside of his wrist is covered in semen, while Armin gazes at him sleepily with his face pressed against the cotton.

"I'll clean you," Armin offers, yawning quietly and glancing over at the tissues on the beside table.

"No, it's fine," Jean says, reaching over and then wiping down his arm. "You just relax."

Armin peers at him with his big ocean eyes and smiles sweetly. "Thank you so much. I-I love you. I love you more than anyone else in this world."

Jean chuckles and kisses the top of his head. "I love you too, my sweet. Sorry about the pain. I hope I pleased you well."

"It's fine. It was wonderful," Armin whispers, snuggling against him. "Amazing. You made me feel amazing."


	8. Nothing Short of Humiliation

I didn't have to train today, and I hadn't had to for a while now - not since I fractured both legs. The agony wasn't even the worst part about it. The fact that it had happened while I was running up some stairs and then tripped - in front of _Jean_ \- was.

I clench my fists. "Eren, I'm so glad you weren't there to see that."

"Weren't there to see what?"

I lower my head, my long fringe falling in front of my eyes. "When I broke my legs. I wanted to die. Not because of the pain, but because it was... so embarrassing..."

Eren looks genuinely surprised and serious. "Armin, seriously? You think that's embarrassing? Everyone was worried sick about you. Nobody laughed." Then he grins at me and quietly adds, "I'm sure you were delighted to be looked after by Jean-boy."

"Don't call him that! He _hates_ that!"

The door bursts open then and several of our fellow trainees come parading through, all panting and gasping and dripping with sweat, completely spent from a tolling day. It's a sight to behold. There isn't a single guy around who isn't shirtless, and it's at that moment that my eyes fixate on the familiar lean figure as he enters the room. Eren nudges me. "Speak of the devil. Look, Armin, it's that guy you like. _Hey, Jean-boy!_ Oy!"

"Hush!" I urge. It's the same as always - I can never take my eyes off him once I get a quick peek, which is a major problem.

"You should talk to him," Eren suggests.

"We do speak occasionally," I remind him, staring at the ground.

"I know, but if I was in your shoes, I'd take things a step further. Literally everybody knows that he likes you as well. You're the one holding back."

I don't answer him. I just turn my head to see Jean sat on his bed, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back slightly and supporting his weight with his arms. At this point, I've pretty much given up on trying to restrain myself. I want the look on my face to actually come across as a hint, to let him know that the feeling is mutual, because naturally, I'm far too shy of a person to admit it to him face-to-face.

If I could, I'd wander over right now. I'm dying for a taste of him, absolutely dying for a feel of those firm pecs - in all honesty, I'm dying just to hear his voice directed at me. He's kind of intimidating and brash, the stark opposite of myself, but that has never put me off. To me, he's the very definition of eye candy. Gazing at him is satisfying and pleasurable, filling me with lust and the want of something more, but as of now, that "something" feels as if it's out of my reach.

I watch him as he pulls a shirt over his head, then yawns and stretches, closing his eyes. And when he opens them again, they're staring straight back at me, but I don't freak out and break eye contact like I normally do when he catches me staring. I don't know what this feeling is. I can't tell if it's love, or infatuation, or just admiration. Whatever it is, it feels beautiful and terrible all at once.

"Hey," Eren hollers. "Wanna come over here?"

I nudge him sharply. "Eren!" I say desperately, feeling my face flush as Jean wanders over and sits beside us, his hands behind his head. He's just a few inches away from me and I can't figure out how to slow my pounding, throbbing heart.

He cautiously shifts closer to us. "Um, how are you guys?" he asks, and it's at that moment I hear the nerves in his voice, and realise he's experiencing the same kind of anxiety as me.

"We're good," Eren replies, throwing his arm around me and making me jump. "Little Armin here has something he wants to tell you."

 _Please, Eren, no_ , my mind screams as I think of ways I can flee the situation without coming across as antisocial. I would do anything for the ground to swallow me up. It doesn't make a difference that Jean likes me back. I'm still flustered and embarrassed at the thought of anything beyond us being acquaintances.

"Eh, I'll just say it. Armin loves you," Eren blurts out, and I thump him on the shoulder, feeling as if I want to cry. I can tell that he truly believes this is for my own good, but I want to throw up, my heart thumping even harder. "I mean... _really_ loves you. All day long, he talks and talks and talks about you, and Armin's not usually a talkative one at all. Why don't you two start seeing eachother? The feeling's mutual."

I can't see Jean's reaction because my face is buried in my hands, but I do hear his voice. " _Armin?_ " he asks incredulously, but I don't respond.

"Do you really like me in that way or is Eren just setting you up?"

I grit my teeth and bite into my palms, squeezing my thighs together and desperately wishing my best friend had kept his big mouth shut. He has _no_ idea what it's like to be shy and anxious around others.

I take a deep breath and steady myself.

"I do," I admit in a small voice. "A lot. _More_ than like."

I can't do anything to stop the tears.

* * *

I'm ashamed and sensitive, and my first reaction is to flinch when Jean scoots closer to me and attempts to hold me, writhing out of his hold. Eren has wandered off and left us to our own devices, probably because he couldn't take the sheer awkwardness of it all.

"If you knew it was mutual, why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asks, looking at me curiously.

"B-because I didn't have the confidence. I still don't. I didn't _ask_ Eren to tell you, you know."

Before I know it, he's cupping the back of my head and carefully pressing my face into his neck. I'm so overwhelmed right now, a million different thoughts racing through my mind as he refuses to let me go, cherishing me as if we've known eachother for years and been reunited after spending too much time apart. Being within such close proximity to his body on a physical level is far too much for me to handle right now.

When I finally look up at him, he's crying.

"Armin... do you know how _desperately_ I've been wanting this? Do you have _any_ idea?"

The truth was that I _did_ have some idea, and had done for a little while now. "I-I know," I stammer, trembling, which only encourages him to hold me closer. I'm terrified of the unfamiliarity but at the same time I can't help but inhale his musky, attractive scent, feeling as if I'd deprived myself from this kind of love for too long. It's wonderful, but it only makes my heart pound harder.

I squeeze my eyes shut as he holds me gently. "Jean... I can't do this right now. I need space."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, letting me go, his golden eyes not leaving my face for a second. They have a certain gleam to them when he gazes at me, something primal and lust-driven, looking as if he wants to eat me up right then and there. It's alarming, but I don't mind admitting that it feels nice to be wanted so badly.

I clench my fists. "I can't believe it. I can't believe Eren. I never wanted you to know."

Jean listens to me and strokes his fingers along the back of my hand. "You'll be glad of it in the long run, Armin."

"Why will I? What is there to gain from it other than humiliation? I want to curl up and die."

He smiles gently.

"Armin... let's be together."

"T-together? Jean, you could do so much better than me."

He slowly shakes his head. "I've been absolutely smitten with you the moment I laid eyes on you. For all this time, you've been the only thing on my mind. To me, you've always been the cute blonde boy, the one who would always remain out of my reach. You even knew that yourself."

I nod at him. "Yeah. I did."

"Then why didn't you confess? Come on, Armin... you're so... so sweet, so _pure_ , and I never want to let you out of my sight again now that I know you feel the same way. Now that I have you, I'm not letting you go."

I think silently for a second, wondering how to reply.

Then when the time is right, my thoughts overflow, spilling out of my mouth and into Jean's ears.

"Yeah... you know what? I want you, Jean, and I don't want you to leave me for as long as I live. I want you so badly that it's agonizing, that I can't think of anything but you every second that I'm awake, that I can talk about nothing but you. I'm obsessed with you, more than I've ever been obsessed with anyone before, so captured by your very being that I've felt like a different person ever since we first met. I've never felt this kind of joy just from observing a person's face, just from acknowledging their existence and wellbeing, just knowing that they happen to walk the earth during the same era as I do. I've long come to terms with the fact that these feelings are more than platonic, and now that you're aware of it, I can't understand what's making me so anxious when I so desperately want you."

Jean squeezes my hand. "Armin, you already have me. From this point on, I'm yours, and you are mine."


	9. Possessive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie gets a little too close to Armin for comfort. Jean's possessive side ensues. Armin has no complaints.

Armin doesn't say a word, but keeps his head low and wipes the sweat off his brow. He doesn't need to use words to convey his thoughts.

"Don't blame yourself, my love," Jean insists. "That bitch... she can't keep her hands off you. Or anyone else, for that matter."

They are alone in the room, a heavy air of anger and jealousy surrounding Jean like a storm cloud, who lovingly holds his partner close to him, leaning his blonde head back into his chest. What had started as a casual conversation had quickly turned into seduction, groping hands and whispered words describing what she'd do with him if Jean wasn't around. Armin wanted nothing to do with it, but Annie was strong, able to hold him down with ease as her eyes flickered over him, her tongue snaking across her lips.

Just the thought of it is enough to make Jean's skin crawl. He holds Armin tighter and nuzzles the top of his head, shrouding him in the heat of his body and the affection that resides deep within his heart - affection that only ever sees the light of day when Armin is secure in his tight embrace, when their lips are pressed together with the heat of desire, when their bodies become one through love.

"I did warn her," Armin says. "There wasn't much I could do."

"I know. Don't worry about it. I've got you now."

"Thank you. I love you... so much."

Jean presses his hands against Armin's shoulders, pushing his body firmly against the wall as he towers over him protectingly. He lifts his thigh and presses it against his lover's hip, leaning in closer and pressing the fronts of their bodies together, gentle friction between their abdomen and crotch. Armin closes his eyes and exhales contentedly.

"You're mine," Jean whispers to him lovingly, tucking soft locks of golden hair behind his ear as he gently grinds his body against his. "Mine. Nobody else's. Your body and mind belong to me and me alone. I'll never let the filthy hands of another set themselves upon you again." Jean crushes their lips together then, soaking in the pleasant heat of his lover's tongue as it finds its way into his mouth, small whimpers of pleasure escaping from Armin's throat.

"Mh... mine," Jean murmurs dreamily whenever their lips lose contact for a second. He's pinning him to the wall so tightly that Armin is almost wincing at the pain in his shoulders, the man's nails digging deep into his skin almost to the point of drawing blood. But he doesn't want him to stop for even a second; he loves feeling desired, lusted over, wanted, possessed. "Mine. You're mine," Jean hisses.

"Yes," Armin whispers in reply as Jean pulls back ever so slightly. "Yours. For eternity."

Jean smiles as he admires his adorable face, peering into his bright blue eyes. "My sweet boy."

It's times like these that Armin can't believe how lucky he is. He's so filled with joy that there's not a thing he can do to prevent the wanton moans from escaping his lips as Jean's hands tug off his shirt and trousers and press into his hipbones, caressing and massaging his skin as his teeth gently nip at his neck, leaving pale pink marks to serve as a reminder of who he belonged to.

Jean doesn't break eye contact as he hastily pulls off his own garments until the two are stripped down to their underwear, their hot flesh pressed together as Jean reaches beneath Armin and hoists him up with ease, his slim legs wrapped around his waist. Their foreheads press together as they stare into one another's eyes gratefully. "You are mine," Jean repeats, pinching the flesh on Armin's lower back. "My sweet boy. I will never let anyone else touch you."

"My god, Jean," Armin responds happily, succumbing to the arousal that's slowly building within him. He never wants the gentle but firm hands to leave his body, and when they brush against his hardened crotch, he's forced to allow a choked moan to escape. "J-Jean, that's good... please, again. Something more."

"Not today, baby," Jean whispers, continuing to press into his hips.

Armin whines at him. "I want..."

"When _I_ know you're ready."

His partner sighs within his hold.

"You always... get me so turned on and then leave me to deal with it myself..."

Jean grins at him and holds him closer. "The wait will be worth it, my love. The longer the wait, the better the reward. _One day..._ One day, I'll make you feel so amazing that all you can do is sob and beg for more. _You're mine_ , and I'll make sure everyone can hear us so that they know it too, so they'll know to keep their filthy hands off my love."


	10. Caring

It's at that point that his body gives out completely and he collapses onto the damp, muddy ground.

"Jean!" Armin exclaims, concerned. He squats besides him, a hand resting on Jean's back. "Oh, look at you... You've overworked yourself again, haven't you?"

Jean gives him a small goofy grin. "Heh. Maybe."

Armin furrows his brows at him as he helps him back up again, dragging him by the wrist. "Come on, up you get. Stay out here any longer and you'll catch a cold." He begins to pull him closer to the door.

"You sound like my mother, Armin."

The smaller boy grins at him. "Without me here to get you out of trouble, you'd be in a real mess, you know."

Jean smiles sheepishly and smoothes down Armin's hair, kissing the top of his head. "I know."

Armin eyes him up and down when they step inside. "Um... captain Levi is gonna get annoyed if you traipse around all muddy, you know... ew, it's even in your hair!" He picks at his ash-brown hair, grimacing. "What the heck did you do today?"

Jean sighs. "Literally everything. Don't ask. I'm on the brink of exhaustion."

"I can tell." Armin studies him for a second, looking up into his golden eyes. "You need a nice hot bath."

"I'll be fine."

"I beg to differ. You really, _really_ need a bath. I'll run one for you, okay?"

Jean groans. "Stop parenting me!"

Armin can't understand why he's resisting. His lover is like a spoiled child on the inside. He finds it amusing how their outward appearances contradict who they are as people - Armin knows he's the more mature, quieter and intelligent one, and yet he's the one who looks so much younger than his hotheaded, brash lover.

"Okay, how about this. If I run you a bath, we can take one together, and we can cuddle and relax."

Jean's eyes light up. "Please," he says hopefully, squeezing Armin's hand.

"Of course. I suppose I'll just have to cope with you dirtying the water. I'll get you nice and clean."

* * *

Armin can feel himself blushing slightly as Jean's eyes bore into him from behind. He is sat on the bathroom floor, slowly and shakily pulling off his clothes. He's never been naked in front of him before, and he's actually tempted to ask him for some privacy. Jean hadn't seemed bothered when he had stripped himself of his own clothes, not blushing or seeming bashful in the least.

"Come in here with me," Jean says gently, and Armin turns his head to look at him. When he notices the light pink patches on Armin's cheeks, he adds, "I'll keep my eyes off you until you get in with me. Lean your back against me."

"Right," Armin says quietly, and wanders over. Jean's arms find their way around his torso as he sinks into the warm water, hands locking in front of his stomach.

Armin leans back against Jean's chest, sighing happily. "I'm sorry for making it awkward just now," he says quietly as Jean presses his nose into his hair. "I'm just... you know how I am... shy."

Jean gives a friendly laugh. "It's absolutely fine, sweetheart. I won't do anything you don't want me to. If that means you hiding your body from me, that's no problem."

"Thank you." Armin looks down at the strong arms that are wrapped securely around his narrow, slim waist. "Sorry to change the subject, but... how on earth did you get so messy?"

Jean tilts his head up slightly, resting his chin on top of his lover's head. "Ah... it's a long story. It may possibly have involved me getting into a fight with your best friend."

Armin rolls his eyes. "You and Eren again, huh? I'm guessing you started it."

"Hey!" Jean splashes him playfully. "It wasn't me! He called me a horse face again."

Armin laughs and turns his head to kiss him passionately, his wet fingers locking into Jean's damp hair. He pulls back for a second and says, "You're the most handsome horse I've ever seen, Jean."

Jean pinches his backside sharply as they lock their lips together again in a hot, wet kiss, giggles rising deep from their throats. Armin begins to lather soap into his partner's skin, turning to face him, not even feeling self conscious at this point. He feels Jean give a low sigh of pleasure as he pulls away from his lips and continues to wash him, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips until it snaps and disappears.

Armin wraps his legs around Jean's hips and gestures to the murky water. "Look," he says, shaking his head and sighing. "And here you were, saying you didn't need a bath. _Honestly_ , Jean."

"I'm just so tired," Jean grumbles, keeping still to make it easier for Armin to get him clean. "My legs caved beneath me earlier... _that's_ how tired I am."

"I know, but imagine if Levi had seen you wandering around like this! You know how he is with dirt."

"He'd just have to deal with it," Jean says, staring up at the ceiling as Armin stretches towards him a little, washing his face and neck. Jean's arm gently grips Armin's hip, pressing into his bones ever so slightly.

When he attempts to stroke his hand towards his crotch, Armin pushes his hand away. "Sorry," Jean whispers, feeling kind of guilty for making him uncomfortable.

"It's fine." Armin is smiling at him, leaning into him lovingly, not even complaining about having to sit in slightly dirty water.

He's such a sweetheart, he really is, always wanting the best for everyone around him, even if it means going outside of his comfort zone. It hurts Jean when he hears others call him a coward, call him useless or weak, because Jean knows better. Jean knows the truth.

"Hey, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" Jean asks, snapping out of his thoughts.

"I just said that I'll get out first, and then I'll wrap a towel around myself and then you. You're nice and clean now. I even washed your hair for you."

"Ah... right. Thanks, Armin." He scratches at his head, wondering how on earth his partner manages to put up with him every single day. He felt kind of bad, knowing Armin was the capable, independent, brainy one, the one who always managed to get him out of the most dire situations.

Armin holds his hand out, and Jean gently grabs it, hoisting himself out of the water. He shudders happily when Armin wraps the warm, soft cotton towel around him, pulling him into an embrace, the two of them both dripping wet but neither of them caring a thing about it. "Mmm," Armin sighs, pressing his face against his partner's chest. "You smell so good now."

"You always smell good," Jean giggles. "You could be covered in titan slobber and still smell like candy and roses."

"Oh, I highly doubt that."

Armin gives a happy murmur when Jean picks up a small hand towel and begins to dry his hair for him, squeezing the water out of his beautiful blonde locks. "Now it's my turn to pamper you," he says kindly, lovingly pinching his partner's cheeks and staring into the shiny blue orbs of his eyes. Armin was such a precious little thing that once he held him, he never wanted to let him go - never wanted to see him risk his life in battle ever again. All Jean wanted was for the love of his life to be safe and sound. He'd lay down his own life for him much more readily than he would for anyone else.


	11. Lightweight

Marco can hear a quiet giggle. He turns towards the sound to see his acquaintance huddled in the corner, a devious grin spread on his face. He looks up at him, his blue eyes gleaming, a flush spread over his cheeks. "H-hey, Marco," he sniggers.

Marco stares at him, puzzled. "Armin? Are you okay? What are you doing down there?"

Armin just laughs lightly as Marco reaches his hand out to him. "What's got _into_ you?" he asks worriedly. "Are you hurt? Can't you stand up?"

The boy doesn't respond for a moment as he hoists himself off the ground with great effort, unable to stand still without his companion to steady him. "No, I'm great," he insists, seemingly amused. "I'm doing great. Real great."

"You smell strongly of alcohol," Marco tells him concernedly. "How much have you had? And where on earth did you get it?"

"Just, just a little," Armin says drowsily, looking happier than Marco had ever seen him before. "Jean got me it. Go get him for me, would you?"

* * *

Marco and Jean exchange glances before the former leaves the couple alone to deal with their own problems. He takes one look at his drunk lover and groans.

"Just _look_ at you!" he sighs, scooping him up into his arms and staring into his eyes. "I hardly gave you any and look at the state you're in! You can't even walk."

Armin giggles at him, gripping the front of Jean's top. "I love you, Jean."

"I love you too, but how can you be this drunk? It's only five O'clock in the evening, for crying out loud!"

"Hahaha," Armin laughs, leaning towards Jean and pressing his soft lips firmly against his. It takes him by surprise, and he knows he should probably get him straight into bed, but just one taste of him is all it takes to seduce him. His kiss is a little harder than usual, probably because all restraint and self-control is out of the question in this state he's in, but Jean certainly has no complaints.

"Ah," Jean sighs happily when their lips part. He gazes lovingly at the small, inebriated young man who fits so snugly in his arms, so light and slim. "You, um, taste really strongly of alcohol, Armin."

Armin makes a face at him. "I've only had a bit!" he thunders, his voice obviously a lot louder than he'd intended it to be. "I'm fine! I'm not... even drunk, y-you idiot."

"I hate to break it to you, but that's what all drunks say."

"I'm, I'm not drunk!" he cries, and Jean can't help laughing at his failed attempts to convince him otherwise.

"I'm getting you into bed, sweetheart. You're going to end up hurting yourself if you stay here like this." He lifts him up then, carrying him with ease, one arm supporting the backs of his knees and the other supporting the top section of his back. He can hear Armin mumbling something unintelligible as he carries him towards his bed before pulling back the duvet and then gently setting him down, his body limp and barely responsive.

He gives a quiet groan. "Jean... I don't feel the least bit tired..."

"Maybe not, but this is the best place for you," his partner says, drawing the blanket up to his chest and taking a seat on the side of the bed, peering at his flushed face caringly. "You took care of me that time when I was exhausted and covered in dirt. Now it's my turn to look after you." He leans into him and holds him gently, his warm hands gently pressing into his shoulder blades as he envelops him in a soft hug.

"Aww, Jean..." He looks dreamy and amused, as if he's perceiving something as funny. "You don't need to waste time looking after me. I'm just... maybe a little tipsy. Slightly."

"No, not slightly. _Very_ ," Jean corrects him, pressing his cheek against Armin's. "Very tipsy. Drunk."

"No," Armin protests, and Jean laughs at his adorable persistence, planting a kiss on Armin's small hand.

"You sure are a lightweight, aren't you? You'd better sleep it off, even if you don't feel tired. Come on, I'll stay here with you."

"Really?" Armin asks happily, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Of course. Anything for my precious little angel bean." He lifts up the duvet and climbs in next to him, sitting up straight with his back against the pillow. Armin lets himself fall against him, his head resting pleasantly on Jean's chest, allowing a loving pair of hands to find their way into soft flaxen tresses of hair. Even in this numb, giddy state, it tickles and he can't suppress a mewl of happiness as his lover caresses his neck and scalp.

Jean peers at him admiringly. "Honestly," he sighs, smiling wryly at his intoxicated partner. "Look at you. You're a mess..."

"You still love me though." Armin squeezes his hand.

"That's right, babyboy."


	12. Fulfilment

Armin feels a warm hand set itself upon his shoulder, and turns to see his lover standing beside him, peering into the sunset. The sky is darkening rapidly, and the sun is no longer visible, except for a small edge of light on the horizon.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Huh?" Armin asks, the pair of them leaning their elbows on the windowsill, chins resting on their palms. "No... no, I'm fine. I like the cool air, anyway."

"Ah. I just thought this seemed a bit thin," Jean says, gently tugging on the grey woollen garment that draped around the young man's shoulders, sheltering him from the breeze. Armin tilts his head on one side, resting it on Jean's upper arm and sighing happily as the limb finds its way around him and secures itself at his hip.

Armin darts his eyes towards him then, shifting a little so that he could see his face. "Um... Jean?" he asks, quietly.

"What is it?"

"Let's go to your room. I'm kind of tired."

"Yeah." Jean reaches forward and closes the window, sealing off the chilly autumn breeze.

* * *

To the blonde's surprise, Jean lifts him up off the ground and holds him close as they leave the room, carrying him lovingly as he wanders through the corridors, looking down into his ocean eyes occasionally and smiling warmly. Some of their fellow comrades happen to walk past and for a moment Armin worries about them seeing him like this, but soon decides where his priorities lie.

Armin looks up at Jean's handsome face in awe, his mouth parted slightly, audible breaths escaping from his mouth as if he's dealing with some sort of craving.

Jean gently sets him down on the bed when they reach his room, the two of them not taking their eyes off eachother for a second. They can both sense something, something warm and tingling and urging, an exciting, underlying layer of want buried in their hearts. Armin is biting his lip softly when Jean takes a seat beside him on the bed, his hands pressing into his waist.

"I'm really warm in these clothes now that we're sheltered from the cold," Armin says, smiling knowingly. Jean's golden eyes widen, and an understanding expression suddenly dawns on his face, his grip on his lover's body growing firmer. He begins to pinch the soft fabric of his clothes, and Armin gives him a small nod of consent, still smiling.

A slight flush spreads across Jean's face as he calmly strips his lover of his clothes down to his underwear before pulling off his own. He kneels down infront of him on the bed, towering over him as he admires his body. Armin is gazing up at him shyly, also blushing, but clearly happy with the situation, especially when Jean leans in closer and closes his fingers around his wrists, pinning him to the softness of the duvet. The small sound that he gives is enough to make Jean lightheaded, considering the amount of blood that's currently rushing to his nether regions.

Cautiously, he grazes his thumbs over his partner's crotch, causing Armin to give a little shudder. He increases the pressure, and when he hears a slight moan escape from his throat and knows for certain that he truly wants this, he tugs off his underwear and then his own, which makes the pink patches on Armin's cheeks a little darker.

"Hey," Jean whispers, leaning his bare body right over his and tickling his ear with his warm breath. "It's okay, baby."

"I'm just not used to it," Armin whispers back. "That's all. I do want this. I've been wanting it for ages."

"I know you have, my love."

There's no way for Armin to resist staring when Jean lifts himself up, bringing his lean, relatively toned body into his view. He's quite tall, and slightly tanned, with cleanly outlined abdominals, V-lines and slim, strong arms. He has a perfect body, lean and strong, one of a true soldier. Armin can't do a thing about the lustful thoughts that plague his mind when he notices just how hard his partner is. He was hard for _him_. He _wanted_ him. And just that alone was enough to make him desperately, almost frustratingly aroused.

"Wow," Jean breathes, his eyes glazing over every inch of Armin's body, the heat between his legs increasing when he takes in his wonderful physique. He's small in stature but well-built, his body very slim albeit quite muscular, tufts of darkish blonde hair above his erected length. There is nothing he can do to resist him for any longer. He's perfect, so adorable and sweet that he seems out of place in this cruel world, too wonderful to even be real.

* * *

"Please," he asks quietly, unable to ignore his own throbbing erection. He's so aroused that he's oversensitive, almost sore, and when Jean teasingly wraps his hand around his length, it's absolutely electrifying. "I can't let you make me wait any longer."

"Close your eyes," Jean requests. And trusting him, Armin does just that, laying still on the bed. He feels Jean get up off the mattress before hearing him open some kind of small door, like that of a cabinet. A few moments later and he's sat back down beside him again, breathing heavily as his hands clasp themselves around the young man's ankles, pulling them over the sides of his waist and letting his feet rest against his back.

 _He's tensed up_ , Jean thinks to himself when he strokes his fingertips along the insides of his thighs, which Armin responds to with a soft murmur. "I can tell that you're anxious," Jean says. "I'll stretch you out a little first, bit by bit."

"No, you don't need to do that," Armin replies politely. "I already did that myself earlier because I knew today would lead up to this. I'll be fine."

 _How the heck did he know we'd end up fucking?_ Jean asks himself, but he definitely has no complaints.

He kisses along his legs, leaving wet patches behind that are cool against his skin. "Try to relax and it'll hurt less."

"How much will it hurt?" Armin asks him apprehensively.

"It shouldn't be too painful because I'm not just going to jam it into you. I'm going to be as gentle as I possibly can. You'll start to enjoy it once you get used to it."

Armin just looks at him, wanting to get the inevitable pain over with. "Relax," Jean says kindly, tugging on his legs a little to draw them further past his waist. They've never been fully exposed to one another like this before - so raw and beautifully human, so natural and pleasant. _Genuine_.

Jean locks his left hand with Armin's right, feeling Armin's slim fingers clasp firmly around his when he begins to enter him. Armin gives a small vocalisation, not expecting it to feel as big as it does when it attempts to penetrate him, slick and wet but still seemingly too much for him to take. He begins to writhe and groan in pain, which is when Jean lifts a hand towards his cheek and lovingly strokes it across his flushed skin, leaning in to kiss him passionately, not needing to use words to convey his message of reassurance.

"I'm, um," Armin pants when their lips part. "I'm... I'll be fine, I just... need some time."

"I know," Jean says softly, not moving an inch. He was prepared for this. The both of them were. He knew he wouldn't be able to get inside his precious love and please him until they were both okay, until they were both comfortable, until the pain had subsided. He knew this was harder for Armin than it was for himself, and he wanted to do all he could to alleviate that.

When he studies his face and sees no more signs of pain or discomfort, he moves again, pushing in a little more, opening his tight heat further with every millimetre. Armin isn't the only one who's new to this - Jean's never done anything like this either, and he's actually surprised by how hot he feels around his length, how _tight_. He's so tight that moving actually requires effort, and when he sees that Armin is laid down in front of him with traces of tears stuck to his eyelashes, he instantly stops and does his best to comfort him.

"I'm so sorry," Jean apologizes sincerely, feeling genuinely awful for all the pain he's causing him. "Armin, if I'm hurting you, I'll stop. We don't have to do this, you know."

"No, I really want to," Armin says, opening his eyes to see Jean directly above him, gazing at him caringly. "Please, just ignore me. I can take the pain. I'll get used to it if you keep going. Just promise me you'll go slow, please."

Jean ruffles his pale brown hair proudly. "Of course," he says, his grip on Armin's hand tightening as he pushes deeper, hissing quietly as his cock gradually sinks into his lover's tight hole. He doesn't take his eyes off his face for a second, monitoring every expression on his face, processing every sound he makes, every whimper, every gasp and groan. Somewhere beneath the anguish, Jean can sense a desire that's so heavy and hot that it's almost tangible, and this is what encourages him to keep going.

"How is it?" he eventually asks him.

Armin opens his eyes and responds, "It's slowly getting better... but still burns a lot."

Jean nods at him as he continues, not expecting the yelp he suddenly gives when he bottoms out. "My god, I'm sorry," he apologizes again, cupping Armin's chin to look him in the eyes. "You know I love you, right? I swear I'm doing my best not to cause you pain."

"Don't... don't worry about it," Armin exhales, doing his best to relax his muscles around the thick organ now deep inside of him. It felt ten times deeper and thicker than it realistically was, still a painful strain for his body to accommodate. He wraps his arms around Jean when he leans forward and relaxes against his bare chest, sighing heavily.

"I won't move until you tell me you're okay with it," he says.

"I'll be okay with it now."

Jean gives him a look of unease. "It's probably going to hurt pulling out again just as much as it did going in, you know."

"I know... but I'm a little bit more relaxed now that I know what it feels like."

"I see."

With that, Jean pulls his hips back, his cock sliding out of Armin's body. He holds him close as he does so, suddenly realising how pleasant it is to be able to plunge deep inside that soft warm tightness, to feel him contracting so wonderfully around his erection. When he notices that Armin's body language isn't indicative of pain, he slowly thrusts back into him, giving a low growl of pleasure when the ring of muscle swallows him up.

"Oh..." Armin moans quietly. The pain is still there, and still significant, but far easier to conceal. Already he feels like he's been stretched out greatly from just one slow thrust, making it easier for him to bear the organ that began a slow rhythm inside his body, gently and carefully rocking into him and then out, the burning gradually fading away.

"Ahh... Jean," he moans. He's quickly starting to enjoy it, the way his cock squeezes through his insides, smoothly but with the right amount of friction. "Is it getting better?" Jean asks, not ceasing his steady pace.

"Yes," Armin responds, relaxing his body against the softness of the blanket. Jean smiles happily when he sees how contented and sated he's becoming, his body becoming less and less tense while he's succumbing to the pleasure that invades it without mercy. The blonde is laying back with his mouth parted, drooling slightly, a pink flush spread across his cheeks. He's letting out mewls and soft moans each time Jean pushes into him, and occasionally he bucks his hips slightly and hisses when his partner penetrates him from a certain angle.

"Ah, it's, i-it's good," he pants, his speech interrupted by every thrust. " _Oh_ , Jean, _Jean_ , it's so good!"

"Glad to hear it," Jean replies breathlessly, moaning when he bottoms out again and his hips press against his lover's backside. It's all very calm and sweet, perhaps romantic, especially when Armin begins to whimper Jean's name almost inaudibly. At this point, he's completely fallen victim to his most primal desires.

Jean isn't certain he'll be able to bring him all the way up to climax considering it's their first time, but he's pretty damn sure Armin's going to be satisfied.

* * *

The world is asleep.

Everything is quiet. The bed is a warm, safe haven, the thick blanket protecting them from the impending winter, shrouding their bodies as one.

"Armin," Jean says quietly.

"What?"

He shifts closer and wraps his arm around his waist. They haven't spoken for the past fifteen minutes, probably because they were both just too tired to do so.

"Um..."

"What is it?" Armin asks.

Jean isn't sure how best to ask this. "Did I... did I make you feel good, Armin?"

The young man doesn't hesitate to answer. "My god, yes. Yes, you did."

Jean can't help but smile. "I'm so glad," he says happily, cuddling him tightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't, um, you know, bring you all the way up... and sorry about the pain."

Armin sighs. "Don't _apologise_ ," he says, apparently amused. "This has been the best night of my life."

Jean wasn't expecting that in the slightest. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yes." Armin can feel tears welling up in his eyes. He's never felt so loved, so cherished and cared for. He's never felt so overwhelmed with happiness. There's more joy within him than he knows what to do with, so it spills out over his cheeks as pearly tears.

 _I'm going to be sore tomorrow_.

_It was worth it._


	13. Reassurance

He feels different.

He can't quite understand what this feeling is. It's certainly not regret, and he doesn't feel dirty or anything of the sort. Perhaps unclean. He just feels rather strange, and he can't quite tell if it's uncomfortable or not.

He's too lost in thought to even touch the food in front of him. Not like he's missing out on much anyway.

"Armin, you've been like this for two days now," Eren says anxiously, leaning forwards to look his friend in the face, beneath the thick flaxen hair that almost covers his eyes. "You've gotta eat, you know. You're skinny enough as it is."

"Yeah," Armin responds, tearing off a piece of bread and shoving it into his mouth.

"Is there anything bothering you?"

"Um... not really," he replies. He still doesn't even know whether or not there's actually a problem. Maybe he's even enjoying it. It's almost thrilling.

"Why have you been so quiet lately? Even more quiet than you usually are."

Armin clenches his fists. "Don't tell anyone," he says in a low voice. "But me and Jean had sex."

Eren grins at him. "So? Nothing wrong with that. That's great."

"You seem to be forgetting that me and you are two different people," Armin tells him, staring at the table. "I'm not like you, all hot-headed and rash and eager to jump into any situation that sounds remotely like a decent idea. I'm a lot more timid, and... you know... kind of shy."

"I don't understand the issue," Eren mumbles with his mouth full. "You're a great couple, seriously. Cute as hell."

"I just feel unclean. I don't know... I'm sure I'll get used to it soon enough."

* * *

Jean was concerned. His lover had been rather quiet for the last two days, almost like he was constantly lost in thought.

"You tired?" he asks him, and he nods in response, his hair tickling Jean's chin. They had been like this for around an hour now, virtually silent, Jean's slim fingers caressing the boy's scalp lovingly as he held him close to his chest. Armin couldn't help relaxing against him as he listened to his lover's beating heart, a symbol of sorts, signifying the safety they provided one another.

"Hey... Jean?"

"Yeah?" He begins to rub circles into his back, relaxing him even more.

"You know, ever since the other night, I've felt a bit strange."

"Oh?" Jean holds him a little tighter, pressing his nose against the top of his head. "What do you mean?"

"I've just felt a little unclean. Maybe guilty. I'm still not used to being touched like that... it feels so wonderful that it makes me feel like I shouldn't be allowed to do it."

"Ah... that's understandable," he replies, taking hold of Armin's waist and gently turning him to face him, placing his slim legs on either side of his hips. There's a surprised look in his blue eyes, but Jean knows that it's not one of discomfort - it's closer to one of relief, and this becomes more obvious when he presses his lips to his and feels his body become less tense within his touch.

"Ahh," Armin moans when their lips finally part, all of a sudden seemingly oblivious to the worries that had been plagueing his mind as of recent. When Jean peers into his ocean eyes again, they're gleaming brightly.

"Listen, Armin," Jean says softly, lovingly rubbing his thumbs into the young man's hipbones. "This won't last forever, you know. It's normal. You feel like you've lost something precious, and I guess in a sense, you have. We both have." He reaches forward and presses against his lover's backside, pulling him in closer. "But I know you don't regret it. I can see it in you. In truth, I've been experiencing the same. I've felt unclean, kind of guilty, as if I've broken a rule of some sort. I promise this won't last."

"Mmm... Jean," Armin responds dreamily, tightening his grip on the other man's clothes. He's suddenly so much calmer than before.

Armin is almost amazed at how different Jean acts with him around - so sweet and compassionate, nothing like the hot-headed troublemaker he'd seen before.

Jean giggles quietly and whispers into his ear, "There's no need to be ashamed of enjoying yourself, I promise you that."

The way he's holding him close is nothing less than seductive, and before he knows it, Armin finds himself panting and whining quietly as his crotch softly brushes against Jean's, excitement growing inside him like a ball of fire.

He can almost feel a damp patch on the front of his underwear.

He isn't worried anymore.

* * *

"Mmm... god," Armin groans into the blanket, unable to contain his excitement. "Are we really doing this, Jean?"

Jean kneels behind him, one leg on either side of his waist as he strips him of his clothes. "Of course, my love," he replies kindly, planting a kiss on the top of his blonde head. "Anything for you, Armin."

Armin grips the blanket as Jean's body looms over him from behind. At this point, all feelings of uncertainty and guilt have gone.

Or perhaps they weren't even there to start with.


	14. Domestic Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's probably the closest they'll get to marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slightly different to my other one shots because it mostly revolves around the characters' inner thoughts rather than their actions and switches viewpoints a couple of times, but I think it turned out okay.

For now, on the whole, there is peace.

They have a more comfortable place to stay for the time being, at least. It's like a large house, a little run down but definitely tolerable, somewhere nice to shelter them for a while. They're all used to residing with each other by now anyway. The days of living with family are long gone.

It was kind of fun, all being together like this, people who had been there for each other through thick and thin. No one had changed their ways in the slightest. Wiping their feet before they entered was still a top priority, unless they wanted a 5"3 34 year old man ranting on and on about the importance of cleanliness.

"You guys should share a bedroom, you know," Sasha says with a wink, hauling a sack of potatoes onto the counter.

When nobody responds, she pokes Jean between the shoulder blades, making him jump. "Yoo hoo!" she calls as he turns around. "I'm talking to you, horsey! HORSE-FACE!"

"Wait, y-you mean us?" Jean stutters, pointing to himself and then Armin. He chose to ignore the horse insult.

Sasha rolls her eyes. "Who else?"

The two young men instantly blush. "N-no way!" Armin grins bashfully, hunching his shoulders up. "Share a bedroom? Um... we're not _that_ cutesy, are we?"

"Good grief, yes you are," Eren mutters. "You remind me of Franz and Hannah."

"Franz kicked the bucket _ages_ ago. Dunno about Hannah," Jean says tactlessly, and everyone stares at him angrily. "What a way to talk about your fellow comrades!" Eren growls, grabbing the front of Jean's shirt and tearing it until Armin intervenes.

" _Stop_ that!" Armin pleads, pushing them apart. "If you're like this on the first day, god knows how bad you'll be after a week or two!"

* * *

"That friend of yours is such a fucking rat," Jean snarls, pulling off his torn shirt.

Armin sighs. "You know, Jean," he begins, crossing his legs. "I don't know why we reacted that way to Sasha's suggestion."

"No, neither do I," Jean says, leaning back onto the bed and spreading out his limbs. "I mean, we used to spend a lot of time in my room together anyway. I don't know, something about it just seems a little daunting, the idea of actually living so closely with you."

"Yeah, I get that," Armin replies, studying Jean's face. "You're worried I'll judge you for stuff, right? Like habits."

"Not so much habits. Well, partly that," Jean admits. "But more that we'll be sharing everything. I guess I'm just scared to admit that I'm grown up now."

"Me too," Armin agrees, moving closer and letting his head fall onto Jean's lap, who begins to run his fingers through his silky golden locks. "But honestly, I'm really looking forward to sharing my entire life with you, Jean. It's the closest thing we'll probably ever get to being married, you know. And it's fleeting. I have no idea how long we'll be staying here, so..." Jean knows what he's trying to say, but is aware that he has no idea how to get his point across without being depressing.

"I know," Jean says softly, rubbing a small lock of hair between his thumb and index finger. The truth was that any day could be their last, more so for them considering they were soldiers.

"So let's just make the most of this chance we have, okay?" Armin requests, peering up at Jean, who's gazing back at him thoughtfully. No matter the situation, those bright blue eyes always drew him in instantly.

Jean smiles at him. "Okay," he replies contentedly before hoisting his lover upwards and kissing him passionately.

* * *

At first, it was awkward.

But after a week or so, spending so much time around him made me realise that I have another reason to live other than being a small snack for a titan. It's kind of adorable - albeit worrying - but Jean isn't all that great at living independently, and considering that I'm quite adept at anything to do with domesticity, I know it's my job to help him out. Whether it's washing clothes, dusting, cooking, cleaning the floor, or basically any kinds of chores that his mother used to do for him, I have to teach him the very fundamentals. And I'm okay with that.

If I'm being honest, everything is great. When he's around me - and only me, it seems - he's the sweetest young man you could ever meet. He's incredibly gentle and loving, always cracking jokes and helping me out as long as it has nothing to do with household chores because he's self conscious about messing up. And I'm okay with that, too. There's nothing about him that I'm not okay with.

When it's just the two of us, he's nothing like the cocky young man that most know him as, the one who has a seemingly childish rivalry with my best friend.

I need to marry this man. I'm helplessly in love with every little quirk, every little habit that he's probably self conscious about, but which I find adorable. I love the way he absentmindedly begins to stroke and play with my hair if we happen to be sat next to eachother, and the way he stares at his fist when he's confused or annoyed. It's all so _Jean_ that I feel like I'll go mad without him around.

I don't swear often, not even in my own thoughts, but I fucking love him.

* * *

He's a lot quieter than I expected. Even for him.

And so _capable._ He's teaching me things I should already have learned by myself long ago without passing judgment on me and making me feel insignificant. All he ever does is love me, and thanks to him, I can stay sane in this insane world.

The fact that he spends so much of his time reading and writing silently has never bothered me. His presence is enough.

We don't have to engage in conversation for us to be happy. I'm fulfilled by just acknowledging that he's here with me, away from danger, alive and well. He has me to hold him close every night as he falls asleep and that's all that matters. As long as I have Armin, I feel like I can do anything.

He taught me how to make strawberry shortcake today. He may not be physically strong, but he's skilled at a lot of things that I've never even _attempted_ , and from today onwards I've realised that I'll enjoy strawberry shortcake a lot more now that Armin has taught me how to make it. At first glance it seems insignificant and irrelevant, but it's a memory. A memory we've made together during our short time on this earth, and that's important. Our time is fleeting, so while we're both still here, we're going to enjoy strawberry shortcake together.

I already swear too much for my own good, but I fucking love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me ages to finish this because our laptop is fucked and I kept losing data.


	15. Experience Gained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It shouldn't be too difficult if Jean works him through it.

He studies his face carefully from where he's standing. Jean lightly cups his cheeks, tilting his head up to make him look him in the eye, the golden eyes feasting themselves on his sweet face.

He carefully runs a finger horizontally across his soft lips. Armin is gazing lovingly up at him, batting his dark blonde eyelashes as Jean slowly bites his lip.

"I mean, you don't have to do this," Jean begins, the two of them settling down on the bed, still fixated on eachother. "Of course I'd really like it, but... I never want you to feel pressured, Armin."

"I've never felt pressured," Armin says, smiling at him gratefully. "Never. I _want_ to please you, Jean."

Jean smiles back. "Oh, you're a sweetheart, you know. I just want you to know that you can always say no, no matter what. Don't ever forget that, love."

"I never will."

"Good." Jean leans in close to him, holding his delicate body as he kisses him passionately, his distinctive, pleasant taste meeting his tongue as it drapes erotically around his. He loves when the two of them taste eachother like this, the hotness of their breath tickling the insides of their mouths, the smooth wetness of their tongues bringing satisfaction.

_He has a powerful tongue_ , Jean thinks to himself as he's knocked back onto Armin's bed, the two of them moaning quietly without parting their lips. _I'm guessing he'll be good at this, just like he is at a lot of things._ He felt lucky to have him.

Jean is panting quietly as the young blonde man carefully unbuttons his trousers for him, his slim fingers stripping his legs of the barrier between him and that precious treasure. Jean relaxes from where he's laying down as Armin looms over him, tugging off his underwear and freeing his boner.

Armin locks eyes with Jean as he wraps his small hand around the base of his length. Jean gives him a slight nod, as if to say _go ahead_.

He opens his mouth and leans forward, taking the pink tip past his lips and over his tongue, slowly pushing his head down until he feels his partner's cock hit the back of his throat. He tries his best not to, but can't suppress a sudden cough and lifts his head up again, eyes watering. "I'm so sorry," Armin whispers. "I don't know if I'll be able to take all of it."

"It's fine, baby," Jean chuckles, fondly caressing his hair. "Go as slow as you want. Just relax."

Armin nods and takes him eagerly into his mouth again, closing his lips around the heavy meat that intrudes his throat. Jean gives a low breathy moan, lightly pushing against the back of his blonde head in encouragement. The inside of his mouth doesn't feel all that different from the inside of his rectum, albeit much less tight and significantly wetter, but still absolutely wonderful. He observes him lovingly as he begins to work against him, not quite ready to take his full length but doing well all the same.

"Yes, that's it," Jean praises, still gently pressing against the back of his head. "Ohh, that's good, Armin. That's real good."

He begins to pant quietly when Armin picks up the pace and becomes a little braver, taking more of his length. Jean loves to look down and see his cock deep inside his lover, whether it was his mouth or elsewhere. He loves when they're physically connected on such an intimate level, the pleasure stemming not just from how he's sliding his mouth over his length but the way he's so eager and glad to do this. So _submissive_.

"Oh, fuck, you're such a good boy," Jean purrs, beginning to gently thrust upwards and sink himself deeper. He can tell that Armin's still nervous and worried that he'll start to cough, so he makes sure he's aware of how well he's doing by letting the moans slip from his mouth and into Armin's ears. "God, _yes!_ " he growls, his thighs trembling slightly whenever the tip of his largeness hits the soft warm tissue at the back of Armin's throat.

When Armin gives a small noise of anxiety, Jean lovingly whispers sweet words to him and massages his scalp, twiddling tresses of hair between his fingers. "Oh, that's... _oh, my_ , that's beautiful," he hisses when his tongue slides past his sensitive and swollen tip. He's almost fucking his mouth at this point, so close to coming that his hands are trembling significantly, involuntary sounds of pleasure pouring from his throat almost constantly as the gorgeous friction doesn't cease.

" _Ah, ah, ohh!_ " he cries out as the relentless stimulation just gets too much and sends him into an abyss of white-hot pleasure, a place that feels far from earth, a level of joy that no one other than Armin could bring him to.

Armin widens his eyes slightly when he feels his lover's seed spilling thickly into his mouth. It's hot, creamy and salty, not exactly pleasant but certainly not unbearable, so he swallows it without hesitation, eager to do all he can to please the man he loves more than anything in this world.

When he glances up and sees that Jean is slumped tiredly against the blanket, a hot flush spread across his cheeks as he pants quietly, Armin raises his head and lets his throbbing cock slide out of his mouth, coated in strings of saliva and semen.

He shuffles upwards, closer to him until he's practically on top of him, his warm breath tickling Jean's collarbones. "Hey," Armin says gently, tugging on his hand.

"Mmm... wow," Jean burbles, giggling drowsily and cuddling him close, his hand massaging circles into his back. "That was... something."

Armin is looking at him, worried about whether or not he satisfied him, but he can't bring himself to feel nervous when Jean's strong hands are holding him and rubbing his sensitive skin.

"Did I... do okay?"

"The word "okay" is an understatement," Jean tells him. "Holy crap, Armin. Was that seriously your first time giving head? You're like some kind of expert."

"Y...yes, it was my first time," Armin responds, grinning proudly.

"You did _amazing_ , my love. Absolutely wonderful. Such a good boy..."

Neither of them had been expecting this, but it was all experience gained.

"I've gotta pay you back for this, Armin. I'll do the same for you, whenever you want me to. Your pleasure is my pleasure."

"And yours is mine," Armin says kindly, his boner growing firmer as he imagines how heavenly it'll be when Jean pleasures him in the same way.


	16. Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hardly noticeable but there's some very vague foreshadowing of manga events in this chapter. Just a little heads-up for those wanting to avoid all spoilers.

The man hears a quiet huff. Everyone's gone to dinner, so he can't pinpoint the sound until he looks towards Armin's bed and sees a small figure buried beneath the duvet. He can't help but smile at the sheer cuteness.

"Hey, Armin?"

The figure under the blanket shifts slightly and a pair of eyes peek out. "What?" a muffled voice asks. Jean practically melts at the sight of him cuddled up in bed and the sound of his voice, slightly annoyed but adorable as always.

"Why are you in bed? Let's go eat."

"No."

He's not sure of the best action to take, but carefully sits down on the mattress, next to his lover. "You not hungry? It's been ages since you last ate."

"I am hungry," he informs him, sitting up straight and letting the soft covers slide off his small frame. "But I just can't face anyone right now, so I'm staying here." When Jean shoots him an anxious look, he clasps his small, cold hand around Jean's wrist and adds, "Apart from you."

"Oh..." The man gazes at him affectionately, leaning in closer and tugging the blanket over them both when Armin invites him to. "Is it because of...?"

There's no need to finish the question for him to understand. Armin buries his face in Jean's shoulder and utters, "Yeah." while his partner lovingly rubs his shoulders.

He hated not being able to live up to his own standards. He hated how his physical strength even paled in comparison to some of the petite thin girls in his class. He hated how, for all of his life, _he_ had been the one who always needed saving, the one who shook with fear at just the thought of confrontation, the one who had even been too anxious to hold hands with his beloved. Today had caused his self esteem to plummet even more. It wasn't like he hadn't appreciated the help from Reiner, but each time he was forced to accept the aid of another, he grew to hate himself just a little more.

Jean sinks down further into the blanket until the two of them are completely submerged beneath it, holding one another close. It's very warm and stuffy in such a small space, but it's so comfortable and blissful that neither of them wants to resurface.

"Hey, Armin. I want you to listen carefully to me, okay? While we've got some time alone, I want us to have a nice, long pep talk."

Armin nods slightly, burying his face into Jean's chest and taking in his gorgeous scent. "Of course."

Jean's voice is muffled a little because he's leaning his nose into beautiful blonde tresses of hair, but that doesn't matter a thing. "You don't realise how loved you are," he begins, "and that hurts me, you know. It hurts everyone when it feels as if their compassion is going to waste. When I help you out and later discover that it's backfired and that I've actually made you feel worse, it hurts like hell."

"I'm sorry," Armin apologizes sadly.

Warm hands find their way into a pair of much smaller, colder ones. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart. I'm just saying, you've got far more potential locked away inside that petite body of yours than you're aware of. Someday you'll realise your worth, whether it's sooner or later - you might save someone's life, you might convince one of the higher ups to spare a friend, you might even end up inheriting a vital role for the sake of humanity, you might devise a way to make your hometown habitable again. You've got a heart of gold, Armin, and that alone makes you extremely valuable, because your intentions are set in the right direction."

He draws in a sharp breath, not used to giving long consolation speeches, probably because he's never loved anyone as much as he loves Armin. He hears a small contented noise from the young man's throat and it urges him to continue, enjoying how he's able to relax him with words.

"I'm just saying, but if anything happened to you, the amount of tears shed would probably be enough to fill that great big body of water you want to see. The one filled with salt."

"The ocean," Armin murmurs sleepily.

"Yes." The bigger hands start to wander and gradually settle themselves on Armin's back, clasped together. Armin's warm breath against his skin is reassuring, a constant reminder that he's alive and safe. "You don't have to be physically strong to contribute towards humanity's victory. You come up with ideas that no one else can, ones that have gotten us out of scrapes already, and will do so in the future."

"I'm not so sure about that... if I'm not strong enough to fight, I'll probably be eaten alive before I can be of any use..." A couple of hot tears land on Jean's neck and he holds him tighter. Armin sniffs and adds, "I'm sorry for crying all over you. I'll wipe my tears away."

"No, I'll wipe them away." Jean gently wipes his eyes and as he does, traces his fingers along Armin's jawline. "No matter how long it takes me, I _will_ make you believe you're more than just a pretty face."

Armin almost laughs. "Don't be silly. I'm not pretty or hot or cute in the slightest."

"Oh, my... you have a lot to learn about yourself," Jean grins. "Perhaps we should start with you realising that you are, in fact, the most adorable, precious little thing in this world."

* * *

The blonde is fast asleep ten minutes later when everybody returns. He'd mentioned that he felt awful for wrapping Jean up in his problems like this, knowing he'd go to bed hungry because of him. Truth was, Jean didn't give a shit about food. Not just because it tasted like sawdust, but because the sweet presence of Mr. Arlert was far more fulfilling than any kind of food would be.

There's a familiar voice from above. "What the-" they begin, before realising there's two people cuddled up together under the blanket. "Oh, wait, is that you guys under there? Jean?"

"Yeah," Jean responds, sitting up to see Marco peering at him. "Try not to be loud. He's fast asleep." He peels the duvet away to reveal a head of thick blonde hair resting contentedly against him, the boy's mouth parted a little as he slept soundly. "Look."

"Oh, my... bless him. You pair were made for eachother." Marco's pretty sure he isn't gay but this young man is a gem. "Well... I'll let you guys rest. Sorry to disturb you."

"Not a problem at all. Good night, Marco."

Jean looks at Armin's sweet face, stroking his cheeks, his fingers running over warm, soft skin. He presses the tips of his fingers against the underside of his jaw, contented to feel his pulse, contented to acknowledge that he's okay.

He notices that there's no longer a troubled expression on his face. Jean is glad that he could make his hands warm again.


	17. April 7th

_What's the point in getting my hopes up?_ Jean asks himself. _Nobody has the time or energy to enjoy themselves anymore. I'm no different._

It had taken him about six hours to even acknowledge it. It was just a day, and he wasn't a kid anymore, so there was no need to even consider it. Of course he didn't have the right to expect anything from today. He was just another soldier, doomed to die a grisly death the moment he stepped into titan territory.

As he stares at the floor, feeling a tad sentimental, he notices a pair of eyes on him. He looks up to see who it is and sees Yeager staring back at him intently.

Jean looks at him mockingly, as if he's trying not to laugh at something. "What is it, Eren?" he asks.

"Your boyfriend has something to show you in the room over. He sent me to go tell you."

Jean gets up, looking surprised. "You mean Armin?"

Eren looks exasperated. "Tsk. Who else?"

Jean sighs and heads for the door. As he walks past Eren, he suddenly extends his arm and presses it against the top of his back, then roughly drags it downwards as if to wipe something on his shirt. "Hey! What the fuck? What did you rub on my shirt?"

"My hope," Jean utters.

"Oh, come on! Why do you always attack people's clothes when you're in a bad mood? You did that to Connie a while back."

Jean frowns at him and says, "Old habits die hard."

* * *

What happened next was completely unexpected. There's a small crowd of people he knows fairly well huddled over a wooden table, their faces lit up as if there's a source of light coming from somewhere beneath them.

"Hey, Jean!" Sasha calls. "Come sit over here with us! We've got something for you!"

"Huh?" he mutters, but wanders over anyway... to see a red and white cake with candles laid out on the table, along with a piece of thick paper and a small package. He gasps. "Wait... what's all this?"

"It's for you," Armin says, smiling warmly as Jean takes a seat next to him.

His eyes are wide. " _For me?_ " he asks incredulously.

"Of course," Connie grins. " _We_ didn't really do much, though... it was all Armin. He made the cake himself, picked out the gift, wrapped it, and got us all to leave a little message on the paper and sign it. We couldn't get hold of individual cards, you see... so that was the best we could do."

"You guys..." He was speechless. "Why?"

Armin wraps his arm around him. "Why not?"

"I'm just..." He feels like he wants to cry. "I'm just shocked that anyone would go out of their way to be so kind to a jerk like me."

"Hey, don't say that!" Christa says encouragingly. "It was no big deal at all. Come on, let's have some cake."

"I'll cut it," Sasha offers, picking up the knife and carefully slicing it down the middle. Jean is speechless. He had literally spent the entire day brooding over the fact that he knew nobody had remembered, or more like, no one even cared. But, apparently, people did remember, and people did care. This world was hell on earth, and still, these kind souls had gone to the effort of making him happy.

Sure, it was originally Armin's idea - not surprising, considering he was such an adorable cinnamon roll angel sweetheart - but these people actually cared. _They had actually thought of him._

"Here you go," Christa says, pushing a small plate towards him with a slice of cake on it. Jean thanks her, and the next thing he knows, Armin has grabbed him by the shoulders and is kissing him passionately, pressing his lips firmly against his, his tongue gently brushing over the surface of Jean's. Nobody around them can suppress a smile; the amorous sight in front of them is a rather rare one, one that is to be cherished, adored and appreciated.

"I always knew you guys would end up together," Sasha says delightfully.

Armin slowly pulls his lips away from Jean's and looks him in the eye, their foreheads pressed together for a few moments until Armin gets up and sits on his lap, his back pressed against Jean's chest. Jean wraps his arms around him, gently caressing his waist as the blonde leans back into his neck and sighs contentedly.

"You can open this now, if you want," Connie says, handing Jean the small present. He reaches out and clasps his hand around the gift, tugging on the ribbon and watching the thin fabric around it slowly unravel.

Inside is a small navy blue box. He lifts the lid to reveal a set of shining, pearlescent beads on a string in a circular shape, connected to another piece of string that had some thin wispy braids attached to it. At first he's puzzled, but then he realises Armin's intentions.

"How did you know?" he asks him.

"Because you're always stressed," the young man replies. "And I hate seeing you scowl, you know? Your happiness is mine, and these have been proven to help people who worry a lot. I hope you'll make good use of them."

Jean lifts the set of worry beads up and allows them to slip through his fingers. They're quite beautiful, cold and solid to the touch, and relaxing to hold.

"I hope you didn't spend too much money on these," he says gratefully.

"They weren't that expensive," Armin assures him. "Wouldn't matter anyway. Your happiness is priceless."

Jean glances at the smiling, friendly faces around him. _These are all soldiers just like me_ , he thinks to himself, feeling as though he's tearing up. _They're dedicating their lives to humanity's victory... and they still found time to make a loser like me happy._

He bursts into tears then and there, and Armin turns around and hugs him tightly, the two of them basking in eachother's love. Nothing matters right now except for the people around him, chattering happily amongst themselves as if they don't have a single care in the world.

"Thank you," Jean sobs, holding his lover tightly and feeling reluctant to ever let him go. "Thank you so much for thinking about me."

Armin presses a soft kiss to his cheek and says, "Happy birthday, Jean."


	18. Frustration and Resolve

Armin's more than just frustrated.

It's unbearable. He doesn't know what causes this or why he can't remedy it, but for as long as he can remember it's always happened to him every so often, and he's still not used to it. He's tried over and over to alleviate it and he just can't seem to satisfy himself.

He's very warm, which doesn't help. He's laying next to Jean, who he assumes is sound asleep, their backs pressed together since there's hardly any room in this scratchy, cramped bed. He's doing his best to be quiet, but he can't stop himself from groaning vexedly, panting and gripping the sheets as he rubs his thighs together in pure agitation, his whole body tensed up.

"Hey," a voice whispers, startling him.

"Huh?" Armin mutters back, realising Jean had been awake all this time.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Armin replies untruthfully.

"You don't seem fine to me," Jean says amusedly. Armin turns over to press his front against his lover's back, absentmindedly letting his arm rest against Jean's waist. The latter of the two suddenly becomes surprised when he feels something hard pressing against the lower section of his back.

"Armin," he asks, smiling a little, and turning his head towards him.

"What?"

Jean takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Do you feel aroused?"

Hearing this, Armin begins to smile as well, knowing his physical hint succeeded. "Yes, I do," he replies without hesitation. "And it almost hurts."

Jean turns to face him, affectionately running a long, rough finger down the blonde's cheek. "Almost hurts?" he repeats. "That won't do. You shouldn't let yourself get all pent up like that, baby."

"I know. But there's nothing I can do," Armin sighs. "It's driving me crazy. I can't even understand why, but it's just impossible for me to get myself off when I'm like this, no matter what I do... it's a little like being hungry, except no matter how much you eat, you can't get full."

There's a brief silence, in which all that can be heard is their heavy, accelerated breathing.

"I'll satisfy your needs," Jean offers. "I'll pleasure you real good."

His hands slowly snake into his lover's soft, smooth blonde hair, relaxing him.

"Th-thank you." Armin is blushing a little, seeming kind of bashful. "I wouldn't want to be a burden, though. You're probably tired."

"I'm never too tired to please you, Armin," Jean says kindly, pressing wet kisses against his neck in a show of raw affection. 

* * *

"It's just so annoying," Armin continues, knowing Jean is listening. "I mean... don't get me wrong, I can pleasure myself perfectly well, but... I just can't make myself orgasm and it's driving me insane. I need a release, desperately."

Jean raises an arm over his hip and begins to lightly caress the curve of his ass. It always feels better when Jean pleasures him rather than when he does it to himself, although he can't exactly put his finger on why. There's one thing he is sure of, though - Jean's touch is exactly what he needs right now.

"I'll make you cum," he says seductively, squeezing his left cheek more firmly and causing Armin to gasp quietly.

"Please," Armin begs.

"Of course, sweetheart." He leans down and presses a kiss to his soft lips. "Let me make you feel good."

Jean sits up, propping his chin up onto his palm with his elbow resting against the mattress so he can get a good look at that gorgeous face. He watches him lovingly, peering down at his precious little angel as he's laid back against the pillow, writhing and whimpering each time the hands run up and down the insides of his thighs and lightly rub his crotch.

"I-I need more!" Armin says, tensing his thighs and raising his hips slightly.

"Certainly." He draws his hand back and lets it rest on the blonde's stomach before sliding down his clothes and brushing lightly against his aching cock.

"Wow, talk about hard."

Armin pants quietly, thrusting a little against Jean's hand, begging for friction. He's half expecting him to be a total ass and move his hand away to hear him complain, but to Armin's surprise, Jean doesn't tease in the slightest and wraps his warm hand around his shaft, allowing him to buck his hips upward into his hand. Jean tightens his grip when he looks down and notices small droplets of warm fluid running down his shaft and the back of his hand, which is enough to make his own cock twitch.

"Fuck, I love you, Armin," he says dreamily as his partner pleasures himself against him, a series of moaned " _Ah!_ "s spilling from his mouth each time he thrusts into the space between his hand. Just watching him masturbate using _his hand_ is turning him on rapidly, the heat spreading through him like wildfire and then increasing when he sees tears of satisfaction in the corners of his eyes. "Oh, god, Armin, I love you. You look so fucking beautiful like this. I love you _so much_."

He can't expect an "I love you too" while he's in this state. He probably can't even hear what Jean is saying to him, let alone process the meaning of his words. Jean's almost surprised by the amount of sexual tension he's kept built up inside him, evident from his quivering body and his desperate, needy thrusts.

"Ah... oh, _ohhh_!" Armin cries out, almost sobbing as he orgasms violently beneath his partner's touch.

Jean's not surprised by how quickly he reaches climax but it's still as beautiful as ever - he admires the way he wails and squeezes his thighs together and desperately scratches at the bedsheets, too far gone to control his own physical behaviour. Jean is moaning just from seeing Armin in such a state of bliss and knowing that he's the one who's brought him this kind of pleasure is turning him on even more.

"Nnngh... mmm," Armin mumbles, slowly opening his eyes to see Jean above him, looking down at him and smiling gently.

"You feel better?" the taller man asks kindly, reaching down to run his fingers through his beautiful shoulder length blonde locks.

Armin sighs deeply. "Um... a little."

"Hmm?" 

He's not sure how to get his words out. "I'm still... I still feel like I need something more... I've been like this for a little while, you see, so I have a lot of tension to release."

Jean nods at him. "I know," he says, cupping the young man's adorable face and staring into his ocean eyes before suddenly grinning and lowering his tone a little.

"Of course you don't have to do this, but you know, Armin, I'd really love to know how it would feel for you to ride me."

Armin widens his eyes, blushing. He still isn't quite used to penetrative sex, so it's still slightly daunting to him, as much as he enjoys it. But even so, he's aware that it's _exactly_ what he needs right now to feel satisfied.

* * *

It's rather unfamiliar for the both of them, but he loves having Armin atop him like this, kneeling with both legs on either side of his hips, Jean's moist tip gently brushing against the boy's tight hole.

"Armin, sweetheart," Jean says gently, warm hands finding their way around his slim waist. "If you don't want this, you can tell me. I'm doing this mostly for you, you know. My pleasure is just a bonus."

"But I want to please you as well," Armin replies quietly. He has to admit that it feels _so_ wonderful to rest against his lover like this, so warm and comfortable and secure.

"Don't worry about pleasing me," Jean insists, soft hands running down his lover's bare backside and making him shudder. "You just do what you need to do to feel satisfied. All I want is for you to be happy."

"Thank you."

Jean smiles at him, gently guiding his partner's hips down until he manages to break the tip through the tight ring of muscle. It elicits a sharp gasp from Armin, but Jean lovingly massages his hipbones and whispers kindly words to him, relaxing him to the point where he can seat him firmly against his hips.

"God," Armin mutters, wincing slightly. It still feels odd to have something this big so deep inside him. He gives a quiet moan when Jean presses him down further, allowing his cock to sink a couple centimetres deeper.

" _Oh_ , fuck," Jean moans, carefully lifting his lover and letting himself slowly slide out of his tight heat. The friction causes Armin to whimper and tug on his lover's ash brown hair, the sounds slipping from his throat only becoming louder when he begins to take control and thrusts his body down against Jean's.

"Yes, babyboy, just like that," Jean hisses, raising his hips slightly in an attempt to get as deep inside Armin as possible. "Oh, _yes_ , that's perfect."

" _Ah, ahh!_ " Armin cries, basking in the intense ecstasy inside him when he raises his body again and feels his lover lightly brush against the sensitive spot inside. Jean can practically _see_ the built-up frustration leaving his body as he slowly fucks himself on his huge boner, the tightness enveloping his tender length deliciously.

"How is that, Armin?" Jean asks, his voice a hiss of his breath.

" _Oh_ , i-it's amazing, it's so amazing!" Armin sobs, shifting his angle slightly and as soon as he does, he throws his head back and screams out in delight when Jean's manhood hits the gland inside him.

"That's it, there we go," Jean says breathlessly, running his fingertips along every inch of the young man's body that he can find. "Keep that up, my angel."

Armin can't say anything in return. He's in the same state as before, except this time it's far more intense, especially when Jean begins to thrust upwards slightly in time to his movements, pressing into his prostate with astounding accuracy every single time.

It's not just spontaneity with the objective of taming needs at this point - it's sweet, beautiful, pure lovemaking, as hot as it is intimate, as dirty as it is innocent, as sinful as it is virtuous.

"I... I'm, I'm close, I'm going to... nnnnngh," Armin vocalises, his eyes squeezed shut. His whole body is shaking violently, choked moans spilling from his mouth as he repeatedly fills himself with the huge organ that penetrates him.

"Come on, angel," Jean encourages, stroking his hand along Armin's length to help him. "Cum for me. _Cum for daddy_."

Armin gasps in surprise at his words before his climax sweeps over him, rendering him numb to everything other than the pure, raw joy that fills him from head to toe. He sobs and whines as he feels his length spilling out his essence in individual shots, coating Jean's abdomen in the warm, white cream.

When he slowly comes down from the high, he falls against Jean's chest, completely and utterly spent. And finally, after being in that aggravating, unsatisfactory state that he's been coping with, he feels sated and happy.

* * *

Jean smiles as he nuzzles golden tresses of hair. "Well," he says casually, rubbing Armin's back lovingly. "Looks like someone's exhausted."

"Completely," Armin replies sleepily.

"I don't blame you. Glad you're okay now though."

"Mmm," Armin responds. "Um, Jean... I'm sorry I had to disturb you."

"You never have to apologise to me," Jean insists. "Never. It's my pleasure. You're my everything, Armin, and I want nothing more than to make you happy, to give you all the love I can muster. I'm desperately in love with you and I'd go to the ends of the earth to please you, because you're my angel and you deserve it."

"Oh, my... you really are kind, you know. I love you too, Jean." Armin giggles happily and snuggles against him, knowing it won't take long for him to fall asleep. But before he does, he's suddenly reminded of when Jean called himself "daddy", and he has the urge to ask him about it.

"Just wondering... why'd you refer to yourself in that way earlier? I just really wasn't expecting that."

"A little experiment," Jean explains. "I wanted to see if you'd like it."

The blonde just glances up at him instead of replying.

"I won't say it again if you didn't like it."

"I loved it," Armin blurts out, almost cutting him off.

"Holy crap, really?"

"Yes."

Armin grins as he adds, "Or should I say, _yes daddy_."


	19. Wonders of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two lovers discuss and share what is long gone.

It's pleasant outside. Two figures are sat by a small river, the taller with his knees drawn up to his chest, the smaller with one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him. They're appreciative of the crisp air that relieves them from their discomfort as the sweat of a hard day's work cools down their bodies.

Every now and then, one of them will toss a flat stone across the water, trying to skim it. It never works because the body of water isn't wide enough, but that doesn't matter.

"What were your parents like, Jean?" There's a quiet splash as the petite soldier throws a pebble into the river.

"My parents?"

"Yeah." Armin knows it's a sensitive topic for most people considering hardly anyone _had_ parents anymore, but he also knows Jean well enough to be able to discuss anything with him.

"My mum is still alive," Jean begins, "thankfully. So is my dad. Me and my dad weren’t all that close. He wasn’t home very often, so even now I still don’t know him well."

"Mmm," Armin hums softly, wanting to hear more. He moves closer to his partner and rests himself against his front, providing physical comfort for the both of them.

"My mum is a real sweetheart," Jean continues, leaning his chin on Armin's narrow shoulder and stretching out his legs either side of his lover's hips. "The kindest woman I've ever met. She doted on everyone she knew, especially me. And, you know, retrospectively... I regret not showing my appreciation more often. She raised me so well, but I always had an attitude and there were times that I shut her out of my life completely, of my own accord."

He gently tugs on Armin's hair, encouraging him to look him in the face. Armin is gazing back at him with welcoming eyes, listening patiently.

"I just know that if she came to visit me, my first instinct would be to give her an attitude rather than show love, and honestly, I hate myself for being such a dickhead when I know I should be grateful she's even here." He coughs in an attempt to mask a sob. "Armin... I probably already know the answer, but... are your parents still here?"

The boy pauses before shaking his head. "No," he quietly replies.

Jean embraces him tightly from behind, planting kisses of comfort on his neck. "I'm so sorry, baby."

Other than themselves, there is nobody they can properly discuss these matters with. Either they'd be scoffed at and told to "man up" because "nearly everyone's parents are dead, so get used to it!", or they'd end up making someone cry because the thought was upsetting. But between the two of them, none of that applied. No harsh words were spoken and any tears that _were_ shed were lovingly accepted.

"Um, what did they look like? Did they look like you? Your parents, I mean. Tell me everything, baby."

"Well," he begins, raising his head to peer at the sky. "One thing I've always remembered is that people always told me I looked a lot more like my mum than my dad. She had a very similar face to me, with a button nose and dark eyebrows, and blonde hair and blue eyes like mine. I have my dad's big, round eyes, so... kind of a mixture of both."

"No wonder you're such a cutie," Jean giggles, and Armin gives him a look of gratitude.

"To put it shortly," Armin continues, "they knew too much, and they were smart. They were inventors, and were a bit like me and Eren, dissatisfied with spending our lives in a cage. Everyone from my family had been planning to escape from the walls, and since they were more self-aware than most people, they were killed just as they were trying to escape. Anyone who knows too much meets their end, just like what I heard about Erwin's dad."

Jean looks shocked. "Wait, what? I heard most died on some kind of suicide mission that was secretly intended to reduce the population."

"That's what everyone thought, at first," Armin tells him, looking as if he's hiding something angry deep inside him. "But it soon dawned on me that my parents were killed - no, _murdered_ \- because they were some of the only civillians who weren't happy with being treated like cattle. They invented something called a... "hot air balloon"... something you can use to travel through the sky. But they were shot down as they were about to leave." He clenches his fists and grits his teeth.

"Armin." Jean holds him lovingly, rubbing his shoulders. He wants to know more - what the heck is a hot air balloon? Holy shit, no wonder Armin's so clever! - but he knows family is a sensitive topic for pretty much everyone nowadays. "Hey, listen, I'm here. I've got you. It's okay to be angry. Don't hold back."

"Are you sure it's okay for me not to hold back? I might end up hurting you."

"That's okay," Jean reassures him.

He can feel him shuddering beneath him, sobbing as he digs his nails firmly into his skin, warm tears suddenly trickling down his shirt as Armin weeps against him, his body hot and shaking. He's seen Armin cry a few times before but never like this. These are tears of anger, an emotion that the young soldier rarely ever shows in front of others, even Jean.

"I'm here for you, sweetheart," Jean quietly tells him, caringly running his fingers through beautiful strands of fair hair. "I'm always by your side. I'll always love you. I'll always cherish you."

* * *

Not many people know why, but people often feel better after a good cry.

"I kind of wish I'd never brought up the topic about our families."

"No, it's good that you mentioned it," Jean states. "I love getting to know you better."

Armin wipes his eyes on his shirt before going on a little rant. "I'd do anything to get my family back. It was a lot of fun, with them around. I miss the way my dad used to ruffle my hair when he spoke to me and when my mum used to let me help her make dinner. My grandparents and cousins often stayed at our house and they always took care of me and told me I was adorable... and even though we didn't have much money, I still felt happy. Everyone in Shiganshina was poor but we didn't care. I felt happy despite the fact that I was always being bullied for being a heretic because I had family and friends who loved and cherished me."

He takes a sudden deep breath, slightly burned out from talking so much.

"I wish I could have met your family, Armin," Jean tells him quietly, and then presses a warm, soft kiss to his partner's silky lips.

When he pulls back, his eyes are locked with Armin's.

"They're gone," Armin quietly sobs. "Everyone's gone..."

The comforting, strong arms that envelop his slim frame tighten a little, shrouding him in his love.

"Armin, I'm never leaving your side. I know I can't replace your lost loved ones, I know that. But I can give you all of my love and I can comfort you when you're troubled like this. I'll keep you under my watchful eye for as long as I live, offering every part of myself to you, saving what parts of my soul are actually good and giving them to you. Don't ever forget what I'm saying to you right now, my love."

Armin gives a small, contented sigh. "Thank you so much for everything, Jean."

"Anything for my sweet boy whom I love more than anything in this world."


	20. Exploration

"Ah... th-that's really tender, Jean..."

The hands are rubbing the insides of his thighs with just the right amount of pressure, but he hadn't been expecting him to enjoy it this much.

The brown haired man simply presses a finger to the blonde's lips, signifying for him to be quiet. "Shh," he hushes gently, leaning forwards so he can look into those big ocean eyes. "You don't need to speak, my love. Just relax."

Armin suddenly tenses up when the hands begin to wander further. "But how will I tell you what I like?"

"I can read you perfectly. I can always tell." Jean lowers his head and a long kiss is pressed to Armin's soft lips, comforting him. "Relax," Jean whispers as he gradually pulls away. "Relax and let me pleasure you."

Armin exhales as he sinks himself further into the mattress, eyes closed, a light smile resting on his face. Jean wants to find every sensitive spot on his body, every patch of flesh that forces a wail of pleasure from his mouth, every kind of pressure that makes him shudder involuntarily.

He already knows about his ribs and hipbones. When he presses his thumbs against his bones and massages them in slow circles - well, to put it plainly - it drives Armin crazy.

And so he does just that, pressing and rubbing and stroking, glancing up to watch his lover as he chews his lips and pants quietly, soft mewls escaping from his throat. Jean admires him, a smile of pleasure on his face. He can't help but watch his precious angel when he's this happy.

"Um, Jean," Armin quietly begins.

"What is it? Want me to go further?"

"Yes please."

Jean giggles at him lovingly.

"Where would you like me to touch you?"

Armin opens his eyes for a few seconds and giggles back. "Surprise me."

* * *

It's exciting, not being able to predict Jean's actions, which is what causes him to give a small moan of satisfaction when a fingertip carefully rubs and grazes over the peak of his erected nipple.

Neither of them says a word, although Armin can hear the man breathing audibly when he raises his other hand and begins to carefully tweak and pinch both nipples simultaneously. It feels like nothing he's ever felt before - the small, hardened buds on his chest are far more sensitive than he thought they'd be, sending little electric jolts through him and forcing him to moan and squeeze his thighs together.

"Oh, god," Armin breathes, never wanting him to stop.

Jean admires his angelic lover and leans down to kiss him passionately. It's long, hot and very wet, his hands not ceasing their delicate work while their tongues wrap themselves together, quiet noises of desire escaping from their throats as they bask in one another's presence.

"Oh, fuck, Armin," Jean moans as he pulls away, removing his right hand from the young man's chest and instead leaning forward to wrap his lips around the tender bud as he gently licks and sucks against it. He's fully anticipating the sudden " _Ah!_ " that Armin gives, slim fingers tugging on the sheets.

Jean gives a low chuckle and says, "Looks like I've found another one of your sensitive spots." His voice vibrates against the blonde's tender skin and only makes him moan louder.

" _Jean_ ," he wails when the tongue continues its work. He feels odd, being someone who's often considered to be pure and innocent, to be engaging in dirty behaviour. And the greatest part about it is that he doesn't give a toss.

The warm wetness is removed, and the next thing he knows, Jean is leaning close to his ear. "Does that feel good, Armin?" he whispers, rubbing his nipple gently.

" _Yes_ ," Armin sobs, filled with joy.

"Good boy."

He complains when he stops flicking his tongue against him, but Jean soon reassures him. "Don't worry. I just want to do a little exploration. I want to find out what you like best."

"Okay," the young soldier replies contentedly. He's aroused and thrilled, but at the same time he's never felt so relaxed, so at ease, so _happy_.

* * *

"Ah, yes, there," Armin groans when two fingers rub just above his tight entrance, caressing his skin beautifully. Jean begins to carefully stroke the fingers around his left testicle, which leaves him crying out in bliss. "God, that's perfect!" he exclaims, encouraging Jean to begin lightly massaging his right as well.

"You sure are easy to please, aren't you?" the man comments, smiling. "Oh, if only you knew how beautiful you looked right now." One hand stays in place while the other begins to slowly pump along his shaft. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you're beautiful anyway. But seeing you enjoying yourself like this..." His thumb glides across the slit and Armin gasps. "It's wonderful to see, my angel. I love you, so much."

"I love you," Armin murmurs dreamily, getting closer to orgasm by the second.

Jean lightly keeps his grip on Armin's hardened cock, this time circling his thumb beneath the ridge of his glans and peering at his face to see whether he likes it or not. He's laid back with his eyes closed, mouth parted, gorgeous blonde hair spread out beside his head like threads of gold. He's a real beauty, and Jean wants to give him the love he so deserves.

"I-I can't hold on any longer," Armin suddenly tells him, trembling. "I need to, um..."

"It's okay," his partner tells him, stroking and massaging along his length to encourage him. "Go ahead. On my hands, baby."

"C-can I?"

"Yes."

"Ah..." Armin gives a quiet moan before suddenly bucking his hips and gasping, his fringe sticking to his damp forehead as he releases his load, each thick spurt of semen coating Jean's hands in white. He doesn't stop rubbing him until Armin gives a sigh of satisfaction and releases all the tension in his body.

A pair of blue, watery eyes stare up at Jean and watch as he laps up the salty essence on his skin.

"That was really nice, Jean."

"Glad to hear it, sweetheart." He begins to plant kisses all over his cheeks and neck, running his fingers through beautiful, soft hair.

"I love you so much," Armin tells him, his eyes gleaming happily.

"I love you too, Armin," Jean replies. It's a very calm, sweet moment, very quiet and cute, the two of them filled with a calmness most people will never experience. Jean knows Armin well enough to realise he's hit the spot, and now that he's done a little exploration, he knows he'll hit the spot every damn time from now on.


	21. The Best Kind of Medicine

He couldn't believe it.

He probably _should_ have believed it, though. He was human, after all, and it's not like there was any shame in it.

Especially not when he had a kind soul by his side to make sure he was alright.

Jean is only half-conscious, his thoughts muddled to the extent of almost being incomprehensible. When he'd asked Armin what day of the week it was, he'd answered with "Saturday", much to his surprise. He'd thought it was Wednesday. Turns out he'd probably been hallucinating as well, because he'd complained about a midget with a shaved head walking in and out of his room and bothering him, only for Armin to tell him that nothing of the sort had occurred.

There is a soft hand beneath his neck. It's soothing, especially when it gently lifts his head and hoists him upright. Jean does his best to cooperate despite the heavy ache in his muscles.

"Here," a soft, sweet male voice says. "Drink this. Your lips are dry."

In his foggy state, he reaches out and grips something cool, raising it to his lips. Water trickles down into his mouth and for a moment it makes him nauseous, but he soon finds it to be refreshing.

"Ugh," he groans. The coldness is slightly painful when it hits his stomach. "Thank you, Armin."

"My pleasure," the kind young man says.

"You know," Jean begins, propping himself up and pushing the thin blankets off of his overheated body. "I can't believe I'm sick."

Armin lowers an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Only the weak get sick."

Armin gives him his sassiest look, the one he'd given him that time Jean had insisted on going boar-hunting in order to win the cook-off between he and Sasha. "That's _ridiculous_ ," he says. "Also, you're basically saying, "You're weak, Armin" to my face because you've seen me unwell before."

"N-no, that's not what I meant!"

Armin smiles. "I know. I'm just saying, your way of thinking is kind of black-and-white. Strength doesn't always equal health, you know."

Jean stares at him, smiling back. "Armin," he says. "Sit on me."

The blonde looks bewildered. "Wait, _what?_ "

Jean just pats his thigh, gesturing for him to sit.

Armin's slightly confused. " _Sit_ on you? If you're asking for... well, you know... I don't think you should engage in anything vigorous in this state."

Jean can't stop himself from laughing. "I'm not talking about sex," he tells him amusedly. "I just want you on top of me."

Armin sniggers at his poor wording. "Basically, you want to be inside me."

"No, no. That came out wrong. I just want..." He weakly reaches out, taking hold of his lover's tiny waist and lifting him with effort, placing him on top of his thighs. "...you to be close to me, angel."

Feeling _ever so slightly_ aroused, Armin slowly strips down to his underwear and leans against Jean's warm, tender body, exhaling against his collar bone contentedly. "I'm worried about making you too hot, though. You already have a temperature."

"I don't care," Jean replies, his strong hands slowly stroking along silky threads of hair, relaxing beneath the young man who's slumped against him. "You make me feel better, Armin."

"Mmm," the small blonde sighs, happy to receive the skin-to-skin contact he's been craving for a while. "Glad I have that effect on you."

The door suddenly bursts open then and a familiar young man of average build steps in, looking as if he really doesn't want to be there. "I was told to give you this medicine," Eren says, wandering forwards to place the small bottle on the low table. He turns his head to see his best friend lying atop his lover, the two of them almost naked, the side of Armin's face pressed against his neck. A pair of blue eyes are gazing up at Jean in a manner that could be perceived as seductive.

He feels like he's interrupted an intimate moment.

"Oh, thank you," Jean thanks him, affectionately caressing Armin as Eren stares at them, blushing slightly.

"N-no problem," Eren replies.

_It's extremely awkward._

"Hey," Armin suddenly greets him, smiling.

"Uh, hi," Eren responds hurriedly before backing up and quickly leaving the room, hastily shutting the door behind him.

* * *

They take one look at eachother and then laugh. Or, atleast, Jean attempts to. Any kind of movement is painful.

"Fuck, that was awkward," Jean giggles, hot hands grazing over his lover's back.

"I know. It didn't need to be, though," Armin tells him, biting his lip in an attempt to conceal his grin. "I guess... it didn't help that we're both almost naked."

"Add that to the fact that me and your best friend hate eachother's guts. God, I bet he's gonna go and tell everyone some dumb shit, saying he walked in on us fucking or something."

"He won't," Armin assures him, sitting up a little to kneel with both legs on either side of Jean's hips. "He's never said or done anything bad to me for all the years we've known eachother. Eren's a good person."

"Yeah, to _you_."

Armin scoffs and presses his palm against the man's forehead. "Still red hot," he mutters, almost as if he's talking to himself. "You could fry pancakes on your forehead - that's how warm you are."

"Bit of an exaggeration," Jean tells him, pressing into the blonde's slim yet curvaceous - almost feminine - hips.

There's a silence. The air seems thick, as if filled with an aura that neither is brave enough to mention until the smaller of the two speaks up.

"Jean?"

"Mmm?" He's still quite confused, drifting off occasionally and then jolting awake, sharp aches coursing through his heavy, overheated flesh.

"Let's have sex."

The golden eyes widen slightly. "I want to," he admits softly. "But, you know... I doubt I'd be able to get you off while I'm like this."

"I'll be the one putting the effort in." Jean shudders as thin fingers tuck themselves beneath the waistband of his underwear. "You just lie still and enjoy it."

The taller man gives an exhalation of contentedness. "Be my guest, angel."

"Mmhm," Armin responds softly, a faint smile on his face as he crawls backwards a little to remove his partner's garments and then his own. When he's stripped him bare, he wanders back up to him and whispers in his ear, "I'll fuck myself against your raging boner until you cum so hard and so deep inside me that the only word you can produce is my name."

Jean instantly feels himself hardening at the sound of such filthy words coming from Armin's mouth. It's strange, hearing the cute blonde boy talking dirty when the most he's heard him say before is a single profanity. And that was only while his own life was at stake.

It's almost enough to take his mind off whatever's currently wrong with him.

"Imagine me squeezing my tight little ass around you," Armin hisses, his breath tickling Jean's ear pleasantly. "And then I'll rub my cock until I paint your body white from head to toe."

" _A-Armin!_ " Jean moans, and the young soldier grins in satisfaction.

* * *

There's no response after four knocks and Eren's patience is wearing out. He doesn't want another awkward moment, but he also doesn't want to be stuck waiting all day... so he cautiously opens the door.

"Turns out I brought the wrong stuff," he utters, not looking up. "It's this stuff here you're meant to take. The-" He's cut off when he sees his closest friend slowly lowering himself onto Jean, the pair of them completely naked.

The bottle slips from his hands and smashes on the floor.


	22. Inheritance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I had to. I swear to god, this series will be the death of me, always tugging on my heartstrings with my favourite character.
> 
> (Some spoilers ahead)

"How many years?"

The blonde doesn't answer for a few moments. "According to Eren," he says, "Thirteen."

Jean's hand squeezes around his. "Christ, Armin."

"It's a long way off," Armin reminds him, seemingly unfazed.

"But still. Twenty eight years old? That's no proper age to go."

Jean begins to cry. It's not gentle, soft crying, with just a little pearly tear rolling down his cheek. It's quiet but violent sobbing, his entire core shaking as his lover - and closest friend - holds him tight.

He can't fathom how Armin isn't scared. He can't fathom how he'd allowed himself to endure such agony, how he'd been so willing and prepared to give his very existence for the capturing of the colossus titan. Eren was right - for all of this time, the bravest among them all had been one of the smallest, one of the physically weakest and yet also the kindest, the most selfless. The most human of them all. That was who Armin Arlert was.

"You..." Jean sniffs, not willing to accept that he'll see his lover pass before he does. "You're too fucking nice for this world."

Armin sighs sadly at first but then gives a light laugh. Jean initially perceives it as one of despair, signifying that he's at his psychological limit. But no, it's actually one of joy at just being alive.

The light laugh is music to Jean's ears, a dim light amid despair. This young man has almost been burned to death, been through such trauma and excruciating agony, and here he is with a delightful smile on his face as he comforts his lover.

"Goddammit," Jean sobs, thumping his fist against the hard ground. "It should be me who's comforting _you_."

* * *

The pain inside soon follows. It's inevitable considering the circumstances. He's surrounded by powerful people who are older than him, who keep droning on and on about how he shouldn't be alive, about how it should have been Erwin, about how the young innocent blonde should be dead right now.

"How are you coping?" Jean asks, shrouding him in his touch when they finally have a moment alone.

"I'm not," Armin replies flatly.

Jean sighs. "I figured." He cups his soft cheek, tilts his head and presses a long, loving kiss to his pretty lips. He locks his fingers with his and says, "We're on your side in this."

Armin doesn't say anything. He just looks down at the ground. It's difficult to see him so unhappy.

"They fought tooth and nail to save you and I'm bloody glad they did."

"They shouldn't have let the commander die," Armin insists.

"Stop that talk," Jean whispers, rubbing his hand. "You're here and you're alright and that's all that matters. That's how things are. Remember what Levi said?"

Armin pauses and responds, "No regrets from anyone."

"That's right, angel. Not from me, not from Mikasa, not from Eren, not from Levi. Not from Erwin."

A small sob escapes. "Cry it out," Jean encourages, holding him close. "Come on, baby. It's your turn. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. My shoulder's for you to cry on."

Jean feels the nails digging into his forearms and back as his clothing becomes soaked with tears, as his partner weeps violently against him, as he releases a concoction of torturous feelings that have built themselves so high that they're damaging him mentally.

"I love you," Jean tells him, stroking him caringly. "I love you. My sweet boy." He gently holds Armin's chin and lifts his face up, staring into his tear-stained face, into his watery blue eyes. "No regrets from anyone."


	23. Self Esteem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little comforting conversation to ease the pain turns into something that Armin never forgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some manga spoilers here. I often use manga events for the basis of these fics because there's just so many jearmin moments I can work with and extend upon, so bear that in mind if you aren't up to date with the manga.

It tickles when Jean gently unwraps the bandages around his head, his soft fingers moving fluidly through a forest of golden hair.

"O-ow," Armin vocalises, flinching slightly when his hands graze over the cut.

"Sorry about that," Jean apologises. "Are you sure you don't need proper medical attention? That was a lot of blood I saw back there."

"It looks worse than it is," Armin assures him. "I don't know why it bled so much. It was horrible."

"I can imagine," Jean sighs, tearing off a clean piece of bandage. "This'll hurt, you know."

"Yeah," Armin replies softly, keeping still. Jean pushes back his thick hair and takes a look at the wound. It's long but not overly deep, still bleeding slightly. He kisses Armin's shoulder apologetically when he gives a whimper of pain as the clean bandages are applied to the wound.

"The joys of being a soldier," Armin mutters sarcastically.

"Tell me about it."

"I don't regret it though," Armin continues, leaning back into the chair. "Dying doesn't really frighten me anymore. Atleast you can't feel pain when you're dead."

Jean looks extremely concerned. "Don't," he says sadly. "Don't talk about dying, please. You sound suicidal."

"But it'll happen someday, you know. Probably soon."

"Armin, _stop_." Jean clenches his fists and grits his teeth. "I won't let you die anytime soon. I can't lose anyone else I care about. It hit me hard enough when we lost Marco."

"Sorry," the small blonde apologises. "I'm not suicidal though, I promise. I mean... there have been times that I've seriously wanted to end my life, but people kept stopping me."

"And thank fuck they did," Jean says.

"But _why?_ "

Jean wraps an arm around him. "Because you were put on this earth for a purpose. You seem to be forgetting all the things you've achieved so far."

"Like what?" Armin asks, his voice almost a whisper. He glances to his side and notices his lover reaching out to him, tugging on him, encouraging him to seat himself on his lap. And he does just that, the loving arms wrapping themselves around his waist, a nose pressed against the top of his blonde head and kisses pressed to his scalp, careful to avoid the tender spots.

"I heard about what happened five years ago."

"What?"

"That you saved your friends."

"I-I didn't," Armin tells him. "That was Hannes..."

"And _you_ were the one who went to get help, right? That's what Mikasa told me."

"Well... yes."

"If you hadn't have done that, Mikasa and Eren would have been devoured alongside their mother."

"But-"

"No buts. Be proud of yourself."

Armin grins. "Oh, geez," he says, turning his head to allow a wet kiss to be planted on his jaw. "You leave me no choice."

"You should like yourself, Armin. I'll do anything I can to make you like yourself."

"I don't want to be egotistical and self centred. That's not me."

"The distance between liking yourself, loving yourself and hating yourself is huge," Jean says. "Liking yourself is not egotistical. _Loving_ yourself _is_. There's a huge difference between you and me in that respect. I'm the one who fancies himself but shouldn't, and you're the one who hates himself but in reality should like himself."

Armin doesn't speak but gives a sigh of contentedness, relaxing against Jean's warm, strong body. He closes his eyes and inhales his comforting scent - somehow, Jean smells like home, like warm toast and clean, soft cotton towels and lavender scented soap. He reminds Armin of his mother in that respect, of the lavender soap she always used and her warm arms which she would wrap lovingly around her young son.

He's out before Jean knows it, sleeping peacefully in the other young man's arms, his cute little nose pressed against Jean's chest. He can't believe Armin doesn't like himself. It actually kind of hurts.

 _Wow,_ Jean thinks to himself, realising how lucky he is.

_Someone as kind and as beautiful as Armin actually fell for me. What did I do to deserve him? Does god exist after all? Why was I blessed with the existence of this little sweetheart? Why does he love me?_

Well, he certainly isn't complaining.

* * *

He never forgot Jean's words, not once.

_You should like yourself, Armin._

He eventually found reasons to back that statement up.

First of all, he saved his lover's life by going against his own morals, by giving up his humanity.

And then he was willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of capturing their nemesis.

He was soon entrusted with a deadly power.

He'd saved his fellow comrades several times over, getting them out of the most dire straits by coming up with a plan when it was needed most.

The meek boy gradually grew to value his own existence.


	24. Carpe Diem

It's been four years. They're twenty three.

Five more, though, just isn't enough. The age of twenty eight isn't enough. Jean needs more of him, he needs more time, he needs more love. These years apart have been unbearable, painful, seeming more like fourty years rather than four.

Jean knows that, in five years when his lover leaves this world, his existence will become one of nothing but agony. In fact, he's not sure if he'll be able to stop himself from ending his own life when the time comes. But that doesn't matter right now, because right now he's alive. They're both alive and they've missed eachother _so much_.

When they finally meet again, it's indescribable.

Their time together is fleeting, and it's hard to loosen their grip at first, hard to lift up their heads to let out the sobs of relief, of joy, of happiness. But when they do, the embrace doesn't grow weaker. Their wails become louder, their hearts pound faster, their desire grows warmer.

Jean pulls back and stares in awe. He's marvelling at how handsome Armin has grown up to be, how _elegant_. He looks like a prince - his golden hair is significantly longer than he'd remembered, tied back behind his head. The eyes haven't changed one bit. They gleam like the sea, bright and kind. He's still quite small and slim, but with a stronger, firmer build, one of an experienced soldier.

Armin smiles and says, "You haven't changed one bit."

"Yeah," Jean says wistfully, stunned by his beauty. "But _you_ , though... holy shit."

"I grew it out," Armin tells him, running his fingers through his hair. "And the weird part is, having it longer actually makes me look _less_ like a girl than before."

"I don't just mean your hair. Your _everything._ " He has the same facial features, the same big eyes and pretty lips and cute nose, but somehow his features are sharper, more masculine. Jean's appearance has barely changed at all, and the only thing Armin has noticed is that his hair is a bit longer and messier and that he's grown visibly stronger.

"Jean?" Armin asks. Same tone as before. It's how he always addressed him before, the calm and genuine voice he uses only for Jean. "Are you listening to me? I just said that I really need to kiss you."

"Y-yes, sorry." He still can't believe the day has finally come.

"Let me kiss you. I have to kiss you, okay? I still remember how wonderful your kisses are and it's not been easy without them."

He stands on his tip toes and throws his arms around Jean's neck, pressing his lips to his and kissing him without holding anything back. It's hot. It's really goddamn hot. Armin doesn't even bother trying to stop himself from moaning when Jean forces his tongue past his soft lips and into his mouth, flicking and rubbing it against his tongue as their fronts are pressed together.

"Hey," Jean whispers when their mouths part. "Let's sit down."

"Yeah."

They make their way onto a large sofa. It's where Jean has had to sleep for a while since there weren't enough beds, but it's decently comfortable. Jean takes a seat and tugs Armin onto his lap, who complies happily.

The little blonde straddles him and leans into his collarbone as Jean lovingly strokes his head, giving him the love and affection they've been deprived of for far too long.

* * *

Jean cups the young man's cheeks and pries his head back to take a good look at him, gazing down at him for a little while until he grips his backside and pulls him further into his embrace.

"You're so warm," Jean remarks.

"And you."

Jean exhales audibly and keeps pressing until Armin's seated firmly on his crotch, his lithe body atop him, obedient and willing to comply. He's missed feeling safe and owned. It feels beautiful when Jean holds him close and enjoys his body, when he strokes him, teases him, just like now.

"Jean?"

"Mmhm?"

"Please make love to me."

A faint heat begins to spark within Jean as he remembers how it feels to be inside Armin.

"I will," he says. "I definitely will."

"It's been forever," Armin says. "It's going to hurt."

"I'll go slow," the brown haired man assures him. "I'll go slow and gentle so it's not too painful."

Armin raises his head to look up at him. "Plus, you last ages that way." He attempts to smirk but the result is closer to a devious smile. "You never lasted, the way you used to thrust into me so hard."

"Hey!" Jean tugs on his hair and Armin gives a half-shriek, half-laugh. "I lasted long enough for you to lay there shouting expletives at me."

"Only because of the force you used. Your accuracy was terrible and sometimes you left my prostate completely untouched."

"Shush, you. Just you wait," Jean assures him, his hands brushing over the blonde's ass through his clothing, which causes him to sigh deeply. "I'll spread you open and slow fuck you for hours if that's what you want. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'm all yours, sweetheart."

* * *

It's quiet, just the way they like it.

Golden light streams through the window and casts upon a calm face, brightening his skin and causing him to squint each time he opens his eyes to peer at the man in front of him.

"I'll close the curtains a little," Jean says quietly, getting up and partially drawing them across the window. When the light is blocked, it seems too dim for five O'clock until their eyes adjust.

Jean sits back down and begins to strip his lover, who hides his face and blushes. "It's only me," Jean chuckles, amused by Armin's shyness. "I know it's been years, but we've done this before, my love."

"Y-yeah."

And with that, he relaxes, calmly letting himself become exposed to the golden eyes that feast upon him.

"Wow," Jean whispers when he's laid bare in front of him, his face still flushed. "I think I'd forgotten how much I love your body." It's almost the same as before - lean, small, cute - except significantly more muscular and firmer, more masculine. Almost instantly Jean leans down and clutches the curves of his hipbones - a sensitive area that makes him gasp quietly - and starts dragging his tongue along the soft, delicate skin.

"Jean!" Armin breathes, shuddering slightly.

"I can't wait," Jean whispers against his flesh. "I so can't wait to fuck you."

The seductive nature of his behaviour is, to Armin, overwhelming.

"I want to spend hours alone with you," Armin tells him, almost as if it's a request.

"Then we'll do that," he replies. "It's been too long. It's been far, far too long."

He presses one hand against Armin's stomach to keep him in place and uses the other to tug off his own clothing. Armin shyly peers up at Jean's tall, strong body in admiration. The pair don't break eye contact, not even once, and honestly, there's nothing they can do to stop themselves from gazing in awe when they're finally both exposed to one another.

"Armin," Jean says, his voice closer to a whisper than anything. "I want you to lay on your stomach, okay?"

"Okay," he replies. Jean's grip on his body loosens and he turns over, his chin pressed to the soft fabric. He raises his arms and carefully pulls out the small structure that keeps his hair tied up and it falls gracefully against his shoulders and back like shining threads of yellow silk. It's longer than Jean had been expecting, reaching the middle of his chest, slightly wavy in some parts and _so_ beautiful, almost royal in appearance.

"Wow," Jean smiles, admiring the sunny crown that splays across his lover's head. He grazes his hands down the back of his body until they press and stroke against the soft curved globes of his backside, gently pinching and squeezing until a moan escapes from the soldier's throat. "I bet you've missed the way I touch you, hmm?"

"Yes," Armin moans when a dampened finger sneaks between his cheeks and attempts to push inwards until it breaches the muscle and slips inside him. It feels as wonderful as he remembers when Jean gently moves it in and out of him, resting his free hand on the back of his head to relax him.

"How's that?" Jean whispers.

"It's wonderful."

He chuckles. "In that case, let me add another so I can make you feel even better."

He wets his middle finger and pries his left cheek to the side, thrusting both into Armin and eliciting a little mewl from his throat. Jean curls his fingers against his inner walls as he fingers him, looking for the gland inside him until he feels something slightly rougher and more pronounced that causes Armin to shudder beneath him. "There we go," Jean says, kind of proud of himself for locating his sweet spot.

He rubs and massages it again and again until Armin warns him that he's going to cum if he carries on.

"I need you inside me," he tells him when the fingers slip out of his hole with a quiet slick sound. "I need you to go slow and deep."

"Of course," Jean tells him kindly, suddenly getting up and reaching into a drawer near the wide sofa. "Hold on a second." Armin hears the gentle _pop_ of a cap and a few seconds later feels the sofa dip in slightly when he kneels back down behind him.

He notices Armin's shaky breaths, and reaches out to rub his hands against his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. He's always been anxious and shy when it comes to sex, and honestly, he prides himself on the fact that he had managed to raise his confidence enough just to hold his hand, just to pull him into their first kiss that time behind the barracks. He's proud of Armin for being brave enough to engage in something so intimate.

"It's okay," Jean tells him softly as he pokes the head against his tight hole. "I'm going to be gentle, just how you love it."

* * *

Jean wallows in Armin's long, drawn out breath as he slowly penetrates him, watching with delight as his length disappears inside him and is enveloped by warmth. He doesn't move for a minute or two, simply stays put and leans forward to hold the sweet blonde, pressing kisses to every inch of him he can find until he knows it's okay for him to move again.

"Ah," Armin vocalises when Jean draws his hips back and his cock slides past his sweet spot, almost hitting it but not quite. He turns his head and looks at Jean, who gazes down at him while he pushes back in, causing the two of them to moan breathlessly.

 _Slowly_ , Jean thinks to himself when he begins a steady and careful pace. _Slowly and gently._

It's not the kind of sex that leaves them screaming and thrashing against eachother in a frenzy. No, it's quiet and romantic and intimate - rather adorable, really. The sounds that fill the room consist of nothing other than skin lightly hitting skin and breathy pants and moans, as well as the occasional hissed " _Jean_ " that stems from an accurate press to the erogenous gland inside him.

"Hey... Armin," Jean speaks, not ceasing his steady pace.

"Yeah?"

"You're bloody beautiful."

Armin props himself up a little, leaning back so Jean can penetrate deeper. He gives a light laugh. "You flatter me too much."

"It's true," Jean insists, rubbing Armin's hips. "I love you, you pretty boy."

They remain mostly silent after that, Jean occasionally whispering sweet nothings into Armin's ear as he keeps up his slow rhythm. They stay like that for what seems like hours, the pleasure more low-lying and warm rather than enraging and hot - calmer, sweeter, easier to prolong. When Armin complains that he aches a little from lying face-down for so long, Jean briefly pulls out and lets him turn over onto his back, happy to see his gorgeous face as he brings him such joy.

"God," Armin gasps when Jean pushes the head into his prostate, little jolts of pleasure filling every fiber of his being. His blue eyes occasionally shift their view to peer through the gap between the curtains and at the sky, which is now decorated by a multitude of amber and fuchsia streaks, thin wispy clouds reflecting the light of the sunset.

Jean notices his diverted attention and lowers his hand to Armin's crotch, set on pleasing him while he isn't expecting it. He brushes his thumb along the tip of his penis as he gently fucks him, eliciting a little groan from Armin, who encourages him to wrap his hand around his slick length, beads of precum trailing down from the slit. And so Jean does just that, one hand gripping the base to rest against a soft bed of golden pubic hair above his length and the other stroking him fluidly, just as he likes.

When they climax, it's simultaneous. It's not the back-arching, wailing, sobbing kind of orgasm that leaves them paralysed. It's closer to a pleasurable wave of heat than anything, a calm feeling of ecstasy, an intense joy that could be likened to most people's images of heaven. They both close their eyes and hold one another close, Jean lovingly running his fingers through Armin's hair while he trembles and whimpers within his hold. It's pure rapture, pure bliss, and it's impossible to describe.

* * *

It's what they've been waiting for. The letters they had been exchanging for the past four years were never enough, neither were the smiles and affectionate looks they gave when they happened to come across one another by chance. What they've been waiting for is love, bliss, sex, intimacy, kisses, affection. And now they're free to bask in one another's presence for the next five years. They're finally free.

The end of their time together will come. That fact is inevitable and definitive, but they're going to seize the day and enjoy their fleeting time together while they can. One day, Armin will be gone, will have passed his power down to some Eldian whom he probably doesn't even know, and Jean will be left alone again, empty and bitter.

For now, though, they can't let the future define them.


	25. The Boy who Dreams of the Ocean

"Could you tell me all about the things you told Eren?" Jean asks.

"What do you mean?"

"The things about what's outside the walls. I want to know what's out there."

Armin widens his eyes a little. "Oh, that?" he responds, a smile dawning on his face. "Of course. If I still had the book, I'd show you, but it's illegal and almost got me into trouble once."

"It's fine," Jean says, hooking an arm around his lover's narrow frame. "Just talk to me, Armin. I love the sound of your voice, and I love the things you say."

Armin blushes slightly at the compliment.

"So, you might find this hard to believe considering we've been cooped up all these years," he begins, "but fire water actually exists. It's called "lava" and it comes from inside the earth, out of these giant tall structures. It's not really water, it's a lot thicker apparently, but still, it sounds amazing."

Jean hugs him tightly and holds him closer in encouragement.

"And there's this enormous lake called the "ocean" that's filled with salt and certain animals that you can't find anywhere else. It's so huge that it covers most of the planet and there's these creatures that live there called "dolphins" and "sharks". Eren didn't believe me at first because he said that merchants would take all of the salt out of the water because it's valuable, but that's the thing, the ocean _never runs out_."

Jean blinks at him in surprise. "So you're telling me," he begins, "They didn't teach us about this at school because they didn't want anyone to be curious, huh? Even though the ocean basically makes up most of the planet on which we live?"

Armin nods.

"Jesus," Jean mutters. "I want to see these things with you, Armin. There's so much more to the world than I could ever have imagined."

"It's not just that," Armin tells him. "There's a lot more than that."

"Tell me," Jean asks eagerly, taking hold of his lover's small, cool hands and warming them up. "Tell me everything."

Armin smiles happily, glad that Jean's taking an interest in the things that have always fascinated him.

"There's something called "sand" that's made of ground up rocks and pebbles," Armin says, Jean gradually enveloping him more and more until his lips are pressed to the blonde's soft cheek. "And there are whole fields full of it called "deserts" where it gets so hot that you can't walk barefooted. Sand can also be found by the ocean though, where it gets created when the waves of water crash against rocks and break them down over time."

"We're going to see this for ourselves one day," Jean tells him firmly, holding him close. "We're going to see all the things that those damned monsters have taken away from us."

"I hope so," Armin sighs, glancing out of the window.

" _We will,_ Armin. Come on, tell me more. Tell me about those big, cold white fields."

Armin giggles happily. He feels like a child again, when all he and his friends wanted to do was explore and see the world for themselves.

"There are places that stay cold year-round," he explains. "They're always covered with thick layers of snow and ice, and there are these black and white flightless birds that live there, and giant white bears covered in fur."

"Surely they have summer? How is that possible? It would melt."

"It's hard to explain," Armin tells him. "It's something to do with the sun's position and the way the earth rotates, which means their seasons are different to ours. The book didn't go into a lot of detail about the weather. All I know is that it's always cold."

"Sounds unpleasant," Jean remarks. "Winter training was bad enough. It nearly _killed_ Daz."

"Yeah," Armin agrees. "But still, I can't believe there's actually a vast world outside these walls."

"I want to take you there," Jean tells him. "I want to go to the ocean and swim in it. Assuming it's safe, of course."

Armin looks happy for a moment, but suddenly looks down solemnly as he reminds himself of their impending return to Shiganshina.

"What's up, sweetheart?" Jean asks, noticing the sudden change in mood.

The truth was, Armin was pretty certain he never _would_ get to see the outside world. He planned to give this mission his all, even give up his life if it meant humanity's victory. A tough price to pay, but he wasn't willing to put his dreams before the sake of other people.

"Jean," he says quietly.

"What is it?"

Armin grips his hand firmly and says, "Promise me you won't die until you get to explore outside the walls. Promise me you'll keep Eren and Mikasa safe for me."

Jean's puzzled. "What's brought this on all of a sudden?"

Armin hesitates, unwilling to express his thoughts outright. "Just... keep yourself and my best friends safe," he tells him nervously. "And don't waste a single second of your life, okay? I want you guys to actually live your lives and find happiness."

"I don't quite understand."

Armin grits his teeth. "Just survive for me, dammit!" he sobs, burying his face into Jean's chest. "No matter who you lose, _don't die_! You got that?"

Jean's in a state of surprise, his mouth parted, golden eyes wide. "Y... yeah," he says breathlessly. "Fuck, yes, I've got that alright. I'm not planning on seeing my own life end before I get out of this hell."

"Thank you, Jean. I love you," Armin whispers.

"I love you too... my sweet boy." He gently presses kisses against his lover's hair, holding him close.

"I know you'll see the ocean for me, Jean."


	26. Girl Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin finds himself in a slightly troublesome situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, because I'm yaoi trash (as you can probably tell), I've never written anything heterosexual before, so I decided to give it a try without straying from my OTP. I have no idea how on earth this would actually happen in canonverse so just bear with me.

The wooden door opens and Jean turns to see his sleepy lover wandering into the room.

"Morning," he greets him. "You sure slept in late, Armin. Were you tired or-"

He's suddenly cut off when he takes a proper look at the petite blonde in front of him.

Jean is speechless for almost a whole minute.

"What..." he begins, eyes wide. "What the heck happened!"

Armin is staring back at him with an extremely exasperated look on his (or, perhaps, _her_ ) face. "Well I went to bed a male," she says, " _AND WOKE UP A FEMALE!_ "

* * *

It just doesn't sink in for at least an hour. Jean's in a state of shock, his face pale, eyes almost falling out of his head as he stares at the little lady from head to toe.

"I don't know what happened!" Armin whines, gazing down at her slightly more curvaceous, more feminine form. "I literally just woke up and I noticed my chest felt kind of bulky, and hey presto, I've sprouted breasts!"

Jean's still staring in awe.

"I hope to god this isn't permanent," she continues, hands reaching behind her head to run through her silky blonde hair, which is now slightly longer than it had been before. "Jean? Can you even hear me? You're just standing there and staring."

To Armin's surprise, Jean suddenly reaches forwards and wraps his arms around her slim form. "You beautiful girl," he praises, his gentle hands running along the slight curves of her hips. "Armin... you are so fucking pretty. I know that isn't really the point right now, but holy shit, you're cute as hell."

"Th-thanks," Armin responds, shocked at Jean's reaction. "But surely you want me back to normal, right? I can't stay like this."

"I'll always love you no matter what sex you are," Jean tells her, planting wet kisses along the side of her neck. "Male or female, I don't care. As long as it's you, that's all I want, baby. You're still Armin."

She feels a smile beginning to dawn on her face as her lover showers her in affection.

"This won't last," Jean reassures her. "I've heard of this happening before. You'll be back to normal in 24 hours."

"Thank god," Armin says, breathing a sigh of relief. A seductive smirk slowly appears on Jean's face.

"For now, though," he says, "I want to explore your body while it's like this."

Armin looks up at him bashfully. "But it feels so weird... I don't know if I should show you. I mean..." She runs her palms along the soft mounds on her chest. "Obviously I know about female anatomy and all, but I didn't realise I'd feel quite so empty _down there_ , if you know what I mean."

Jean smiles kindly. "I want to see," he says. "I want to see what your body looks like, angel. You'll never not be beautiful. You don't have to be shy in front of me."

Armin eventually smiles back. "Alright," she says, "but I'll find it embarrassing, you know. It's not like I'm showing you parts of me that you've seen before."

* * *

Jean presses one hand to her lower abdomen to keep her still while the other gently tugs off her jacket and shirt. He gazes down at her from where she's laid down on the bed, watching her reactions, making sure she's alright with this.

She squeezes her eyes shut and blushes when Jean peers at her breasts in admiration. They're not big, not all that small either but definitely a little smaller than most girls he'd seen.

"Can I... touch them?" he asks softly, and Armin nods, suddenly letting out a small noise when he cups them both in his hands. He begins to rub and knead and caress the soft, warm flesh, basking in the mewls of pleasure that the blonde makes beneath him. Armin's actually quite surprised by how _good_ this feels. She still feels mismatched and it's unnerving being stimulated in areas that shouldn't even exist on her body, but Jean's touch is so tender and loving that she just wants more and more.

"How about this?" he asks, carefully pinching and rolling her erect nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "I know how sensitive you are here."

She suddenly gasps and moans, the insides of her thighs squeezing around Jean, who's situated between them. He chuckles while he pleasures her, growing hard just from the look of sheer delight on her face. She begins to bite her lip and fidget every time the sensitive buds are tweaked and gently pinched, sending sharp little bolts of electricity through her being.

"They're so cute and soft," Jean remarks, his palms sliding over the curves of her breasts while he rhythmically pinches and presses her nipples, delighting himself in the string of moans that spill from Armin's mouth.

" _Jean_ ," Armin pants.

"What is it, angel?"

"Touch me down there... please," she requests. "It's hot and damp. It feels strange, I've never felt so much moisture there before."

The hands travel towards her hips and tuck themselves into the waistband of her trousers and underwear. "You sure?" Jean asks. "I'm just worried because you were a bit hesitant before."

"Yes," Armin replies. "I want it. Please, Jean."

"My pleasure," the young man responds, tugging down her garments until she's laid bare in front of him. She draws her legs up at first, drawing away from him shyly until he leans over and plants a kiss onto her silky lips, a string of saliva attached to their mouths until they pull far apart enough for it to snap. When the time is right, he carefully pries her legs apart and smiles lovingly at the soaked organ between her legs.

"It's... beautiful," Jean tells Armin. "You're beautiful."

Armin simply gives a shy giggle and invites Jean to touch her. He runs his finger along the cleft of her labia, partially covered by a bed of soft blonde pubic hair, and pulls the tip of his finger away to admire the glistening syrup that attaches itself to it. "It's so warm," he comments.

When Armin gives him a slight nod, he pries his forefinger inwards past the wet lips and strokes upwards, running his skin along a small bulb of nerves that elicits a sudden moan from Armin. "Is that good?" he asks kindly, pressing and rubbing around the sides of her clit.

" _Yes_ ," Armin pants when he continues to rub her. The tiny structure is more sensitive than Jean realises and he rubs a little too hard, not used to the fact that Armin was stuck inside a female body at present and that it wasn't exactly the same as pleasuring him while he was his usual self.

Armin flinches and instinctively kicks him. It's more of a reflex than anything, comparable to the way one can't help but swiftly raise their leg when the underside of their kneecap is struck. But still, it takes her lover by surprise and she apologizes, telling him that he was better off touching it indirectly rather than rubbing it dead-on. "It's full of nerve endings," Armin explains.

"I see," Jean responds, being extra careful this time. He rubs two fingers against the inside of her labia, slightly surprised by how wonderful and soft it feels against his skin. He's never touched a girl before, and ever since meeting Armin he's never actually wanted to. But being able to pleasure his little angel while he's in a girl's body is something he could never pass up.

* * *

Armin watches while Jean licks along his finger, soaking it with his mouth. "Are you going to finger me?" Armin asks, spreading her legs wider in invitation.

"I am."

Armin peers at him gratefully. "I'm surprised by how good these sorts of things feel," she tells him when he presses the wet finger against her tight core. "Even though I already kind of miss having a penis."

Jean laughs and squeezes her hand. "You'll be back to normal soon," he tells her. "I promise you. Just enjoy yourself for now, okay?"

She nods. "Okay."

The grip on her hand tightens slightly when the slick finger presses into her. She's surprised by how different this is compared to what she's used to. It's a lot wetter and less awkward, for one. The digit slides into her easily, curling itself against the walls of muscle.

"It's... tight," Jean tells her, removing his finger to wet the one beside it. This rouses anxiety in Armin. She's not sure how she'll be able to take more than one - the muscles seem so firmly set and narrow, able to take a certain width with ease but nothing more.

"Um... Jean?"

"What's up?" He's pressing and rubbing against her entrance, arousing her.

"Won't this hurt?"

"It shouldn't do," he says, pressing inwards slightly and breaching the warm, slippery hole with his fingertips. He feels Armin tense around the digits. "Think about how women give birth and all that."

"Yeah. I suppose you have a point."

She hisses when he pushes them into her, little sparks of pain travelling up her abdomen as they widen her inner walls. It's significantly painful but it's easier than she thought it'd be, and it takes less getting used to than being fingered anally, that's for certain. It's not quite as tender and delicate, and quickly becomes more comfortable each time Jean slowly thrusts them into her and then out. He's watching her every move, every facial expression, drinking up every sweet whimper and moan as if it's a gift from the gods.

Then he curls his fingers inwards and she suddenly quivers, a high-pitched sound erupting from her throat when he grazes over the patch of nerves.

"I assume that I've found it, then?" Jean says amusedly, rubbing the back of his lover's hand when she squeals with pleasure yet again. "That sensitive spot inside you."

"Jean!" she gasps desperately.

"Hmm?"

"Please!"

"What?"

"Make love to me!" she says enthusiastically.

Jean pulls his soaking fingers out of her. "Wait, are you sure?" he asks. "It's probably gonna hurt a lot more than my fingers."

"I don't care," Armin whines, relaxing her body against smooth, cool sheets. "I want you inside me. In a different place from usual..."

The young man looks at her and sighs, smiling at her. "Okay," he finally says, feeling ever so slightly nervous and rather surprised at Armin's sudden spark of confidence. "But try not to get tensed up. It'll hurt more, that way."

The blonde looks up at him almost frustratedly. "I just want to make the most of this body before I turn back into a male again."

"I know, I know," the brown haired man says, tugging off his clothes as Armin stares at him desperately.

Her eyes gleam at the sight of Jean's hardened member, which stands erect as he gazes at her slim body, still stunned by her beauty. He grips her thighs and carefully pushes them further apart, looking up into Armin's ocean eyes as he does so and noticing how flustered she seems, with the pink patches on her cheeks and the beads of sweat that are gradually forming on her brows.

He doesn't break eye contact when he thrusts his hips forward and pushes into her, fully expecting the sudden cry she gives as the head of his cock breaches her tight hole. She throws her head back and groans in pain, desperate for him to continue but at the same time hating the soreness that came with being stretched out like this.

"You okay?" Jean asks, keeping still until she seems a little calmer.

"Yeah," Armin responds nervously. "It just hurts. Keep going slowly and I'll be alright."

"Okay," Jean says softly. He leans in further and locks his hand with Armin's, pressing it to the mattress and lovingly stroking it with his fingers when he penetrates further. He feels her fingers tighten around his as he does, a gasp escaping from her throat that gradually grows sharper until she shudders in pain.

"I love you," Jean calmly tells her, trying to relax her. "I love you, Armin."

"I... I love you," Armin responds, a slight strain in her voice. He finally bottoms out and she looks up into his eyes worriedly.

"Hey," he says kindly. "You're doing just fine, baby."

She just blinks at him, quivering a little bit.

Jean waits for a moment or two, studying the blonde's sweet face carefully. She's laid down with her eyes closed, looking a lot calmer than she feels, her expression becoming slightly more agitated when Jean begins to move inside her. It stings when he almost pulls out, groans escaping from her throat that grow louder when he pushes into her again.

"Armin," he says, starting to sweat while he gradually picks up a slow rhythm. "Armin, you're really goddamn beautiful."

His words of adoration never cease to calm his lover down.

"I'm sorry about the pain, sweetheart."

"I'm alright," she insists, opening her eyes and smiling. It still stings but it's growing far more tolerable by the second and before she knows it, she's panting quietly with every thrust.

Jean chuckles at her sounds of approval and decides to go a little quicker, growing brave and wanting to hear more of her. She squeals when he thrusts particularly hard and deep, shockwaves of pleasure soaring through her when he makes contact with the sensitive spot inside her. "How is that, Armin?" he asks before leaning down to kiss her passionately. "Is it good?"

"Yes!" she whimpers. Her voice is high and slightly broken, and Jean can tell that she's nearing the state where she loses control, that stage of bliss right before the ecstasy of an orgasm. Her moans are growing shorter in length and closer in distance, a seemingly endless string of " _Ah!_ "s filling the room as she nears tipping point. And then the next thing they know, she's sobbing and crying out, her whole body shuddering and her narrow passage tightening around Jean, who gives a loud groan when he releases his seed inside her.

* * *

He holds her close as he works them both through their orgasm, continuing to thrust until they're both a sweaty, panting heap. There's a familiar kind of wet heat between them, warming and dampening their skin.

"Mmm," Armin mumbles, completely spent. "Jean?"

"Yeah?" he responds breathlessly, still on top of her, his shaking hands running their fingers through soft fair hair.

"That felt really good."

He grins, proud of his efforts. "Glad to hear it," he says, admiring her cute features before he leans in and kisses her, softly biting and sucking at her lips and wrapping his tongue around Armin's.

"You always make me feel so wonderful," Armin tells him. He possessively cups her cheeks and gazes into her eyes as she speaks. "I love how you make me feel owned, Jean. I love everything you do to me. I love when you tell me what to do and when you tell me that I belong to you. I love when you wrap yourself around me and hold me and whisper in my ear that you want me to call you daddy. I love when you're so deep inside me that it makes me cry. I love _you_ , Jean."

His eyes gleam as he listens, almost growing aroused again at the sound of her words.

"Fuck, Armin," he moans. "God, you have no idea how much I love doing these things to you."

Armin giggles as she snuggles against him. A quiet but sincere "daddy" slips from her mouth and Jean holds her tighter at the sound of his favourite word, the one he can't resist hearing from Armin's lips.

"I kind of wish I could stay as a girl just for a tiny bit longer."


	27. Valiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two lovers and their comrades mourn the losses of the previous battle, and Armin soon realises he cares for Jean about 100 times more than he first thought he did.

At the time, the first thought that came into Armin's head was that he knew this would happen eventually.

He'd seen the way Jean had bled, the way he'd taken such damage from the impact, the way he'd cried out in pain shortly before losing consciousness. Armin had screamed. The brave young man had screamed in fear of what might have become of his lover. And then he'd left the safety of his horse to tend to the man he loved the most, to hawl his limp body out of danger, to do anything he could before the two were inevitably devoured.

What Armin recalled the most clearly was how he'd held Jean besides the tree - firmly, shakily, an arm hooked around his chest to keep him out of harm's way. He remembered how he'd looked to his comrades for help, practically crying, baring his blade at the titan before him in a last attempt to spare their lives.

And then it happened.

Sure, Eren and Jean got along like oil and water, but if the next stage hadn't occurred, the blonde was pretty sure he and his partner would have been eaten alive.

Armin had to be honest with himself: it was one of the worst and also best days of his life. Witnessing so many graphic deaths, hearing so many screams, hearing the vile _crunch_ of a human skeleton being crushed between mammoth sized jaws - these were the things he wanted to forget forever. And yet, somehow, the way he'd held Jean as they stood on death's door, the way they'd shared a horse, the long talk they'd had after the carnage... it was almost pleasant, in a way. At least, as close to pleasant as anyone could get on the battlefield.

And when he notices that Eren's staring at him blankly, he comes back to the present and shuts off the previous nightmare.

"We figured it out," Armin says. "It was you, Eren. You were the one who'd controlled the titans."

"Yeah," Jean says firmly, an oddly dark look on his face. "And all those lives lost just to save you. Their blood is on your hands."

"Don't, Jean," Armin tells him, noticing how unstable Eren seems. "Just show kindness to eachother. This world is brutal enough without human aggression added into the mix."

"Fine," Jean says, throwing a heavy arm around the smaller soldier, who jumps in surprise. "'Spose you're right. I still think you're the bravest, Armin. You put your own fucking life on the line just to save me while I was out of it, apparently... and, you know, that makes me feel awful knowing you nearly got eaten."

"The point is, he didn't," Mikasa chimes in. "And thank god. You're all alright and that's all that matters."

"We're not all alright, though," Jean says coarsely, glaring at Eren as if he'd just been punched by him or something. "All those brave men and women sacrificed just to save some brat who nearly pisses himself on every expedition? It's insanity."

"Jean, _stop_ ," Armin warns, taking a seat on the wall. "Please, try to calm yourself. Sit by me."

Jean sighs and takes a seat beside Armin, holding the cute blonde close as Mikasa and her adoptive brother stare on. It's been very quiet and depressing today, everyone too occupied with horrific memories of spilt blood to engage in social interaction. Jean looks at Armin, the one who, at first, had come across to him as a timid and fragile little boy who couldn't even fathom being in a life-or-death situation. The previous events had proved him completely wrong. His lover was no coward and no weakling; he was valiant and dedicated, willing to throw himself out of safety in the hopes of rescuing another. Jean knew that Armin was selfless and loving and had a heart of gold, and it infuriated him that not everyone could see it.

"Hey... Jean," Armin says softly.

"Yeah?"

"Looking after you really calmed me down and helped me fight more rationally. You helped me."

"I-I didn't help you," Jean insists. "I wasn't even conscious!"

"We experienced something similar," Eren chimes in. "No idea what it was, but... it was Mikasa, she just went into this... really soppy daze. She looked at me all teary-eyed and blushing, thanking me for how I've helped her with everything... and only god knows how, but it strengthened my resolve."

"You just fancy her," Jean mutters disapprovingly. "Even though she's your _sister_."

"I _don't_ fancy her," Eren says, annoyed. "It just hit a soft spot within me, and then... that thing happened. All the titans went crazy."

"It's strengthening, isn't it?" Armin asks. "Somehow, being with Jean like that, it gave me the kick that I needed. It helped the two of us survive."

"I don't think people place enough emphasis on emotional strength," Mikasa says. "Without Eren by my side, I would have perished long ago."

"We need eachother," Armin says. He gestures to Jean and Eren before adding, "And that's why I hate when you two fight. You might save eachother's lives one day. Just how I've saved Jean's, and just how Jean has provided me with the will to live for all this time."


	28. Sweet Dreams

Armin loves alcohol.

He doesn't like the really bitter drinks like dry wine or beer or anything like that. He prefers sweeter, milder flavoured ones. The problem with this is that it's hard for him to tell how much he's actually drinking, and he usually can't tell how drunk he is until he can't walk in a straight line anymore.

Jean likes it when Armin's tipsy.

He doesn't really like it when he's _drunk_ because that means getting off his ass and carrying his little angel to bed, but that's okay. Armin's funny when he's had alcohol. He's also extremely cute, but he's cute all the time, drunk or not.

Jean's smiling to himself as he tugs on his small hand. He's not currently what he'd call "intoxicated", but he's way past the point of mere tipsiness and his speech is a little slurred, not to mention the prominent pink flush that decorates his cheeks.

"Hey, Jean?" a slightly drowsy-sounding voice says.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not tired."

"I know," the taller man replies, opening the door to their room. "But you need to sleep it off, baby. Come on, I'll sleep with you."

"Mmm... love you, Jean," he murmurs softly, collapsing onto the bed while Jean strips down to his underwear.

He kneels beside Armin and slowly starts to remove his clothes for him, lifting his arms and legs to pull off his trousers and the thin grey woollen poncho that drapes around his shoulders. It used to be Jean's, but Armin always said how he loved its softness and pleasant scent, so he let him keep it. It's too big for him, but that's okay.

"I need you to sit up," Jean says, tugging on his limbs. "So that I can get us into bed." Armin's almost falling asleep right where he is, with the slightly chilly air nipping at his skin.

He pulls the sleepy heap into bed and holds him close, only just now noticing the strong smell of liquor on his breath. His breathing is slightly laboured, his eyes glazed and half-lidded to stare up at Jean, his warm little body pressed tight against his lover's bare chest.

"You okay?" Jean whispers.

"Yeah," the blonde replies. "Um... I think I want something."

"What is it?"

"Uh..." For some reason he's embarrassed to ask, which is strange considering he usually loses around 75% of his inhibitions when he's been drinking. "Um... I-I know I should prob'ly just go to sleep but... could you suck my dick?"

Jean giggles. "Well, I wasn't expecting that."

"S-sorry," Armin says politely. "I understand if you don't want to. I just... want to know what it feels like."

"Wait, why are you apologising? Of course I want to," Jean says, sounding surprised. " _God_ , Armin, I've wanted to do that to you for the longest time."

"Seriously?"

"Hell yes." Without hesitation, Jean slides a hand over Armin's crotch, delighting himself when he feels the organ harden beneath his touch. "I'll do it for you now, if you want."

" _Would_ you? I don't want to be a nuisance."

"Stop doubting yourself," Jean says, one hand sliding along the inside of Armin's thigh and the other lovingly twisting his fingers through his soft hair. "Just say the word and I'll do it, right now."

" _Please_."

"Certainly." He tugs down his underwear and leans forward to kiss the tip of his length, which stands erect at his touch.

Armin gives a little sigh, enjoying the various sensations around him: the warmth and softness of the duvet that shrouds he and his lover; the tongue that gives gentle little kitten licks to the bell-shaped head of his cock; the hand that massages his hips; the warm buzz of the alcohol that makes his eyes feel heavy in their sockets.

Jean wraps his hand around his shaft and envelops the head with his mouth, sucking lightly and quietly moaning at the way Armin quivers and whines in response.

"Angel," he mutters against his cock before proceeding to drag his tongue right down to the base and then up again, leaving a wet trail that shines in the dim light.

"A-A little more... please," Armin pants.

"Hmm?" Jean murmurs, planting affectionate kisses along his length and then giving the head a wet kiss. "What's up, sweetheart?"

"Please keep going," he begs. "Please suck it, Jean!"

"Mm... when I feel like it," Jean teases, and Armin groans.

He continues to suck the sensitive head, occasionally pressing the tip of his tongue right into the slit and glancing up to watch Armin furrow his brows and whine with pleasure.

"Baby," Jean utters kindly, running his hand up and down his length with his lips still pressed to his tip. "Armin, baby, tell me how it feels."

"It feels _good!_ " Armin tells him desperately. "I need more... please, Jean, put it in your mouth, _please!_ "

Jean gives a seductive hum and the vibration of his larynx against his arousal sends pleasant tingles right up Armin's spine. This only gets better when Jean opens his mouth and - Armin has no idea _how_ \- takes him right down to the base without his eyes even watering.

"How did you do that?" Armin whispers, arching his back when Jean begins to bob his head against him. "I... always struggle to take yours..."

The brown haired man lifts up his head and answers, "Because you've got a tiny little mouth, baby. You're tiny and cute." Then he grins and lowers his eyes towards his crotch and adds, "But you're certainly not little down _there_ , my love."

"Ahh," Armin moans, completely taken by his words and the way he slides the cavity of his mouth over him, taking all of him at once, deepthroating him with ease. He lets out a small "nnngh!" as soon as Jean starts to really work his mouth against him, his tongue lapping at the veins on the underside of his cock.

He squeezes his mouth around him, sucking in his cheeks to increase the pressure against the young man's organ. This sends Armin wild, a mildly slurred moan breaking out of his throat and filling the room with the wanton, filthy sounds that Jean can't live without. He could listen to him all day; Armin's moans are his favourite sound in the whole wide world and he can't help but greedily drink them up.

Jean reaches up and pushes his hands down against Armin's abdomen, forcing him to lay flat and still against the mattress as he pleasures him. Armin loves when Jean takes control; the little blonde wants to be dominated, owned, cherished, admired.

Then he reaches down and starts to carefully rub and massage his testicles with the pads of his fingers, not stopping the hot, wet stimulation on his cock. And, _oh god_ , Armin's so utterly taken by what Jean's doing to him that he's starting to cry, that he's sobbing uncontrollably each time his tip hits the warm flesh inside Jean's throat.

"I need to cum!" Armin screams, shaking and tugging on Jean's hair in an attempt to pull him off his organ. "Jean! Jean, I'm gonna cum..."

But the man refuses to stop until Armin's filling the cavity of his mouth with semen, thin trails of it leaking out of the corners of his mouth and dripping onto Armin's lower stomach. He pulls off his cock and swallows every last drop of the bitter fluid in his mouth, and then peers down to see Armin curled up against the duvet, his shoulder length locks splayed out around his perfect face like strands of golden sunlight.

Jean wishes he could freeze this moment in time. He wishes he could see this exact moment every single day. Right now, Armin looks so perfect, so sweet, right down to the way his dark brows are furrowed, the way his cute button nose is pressed against the blanket, the way his big blue eyes stare up sleepily at Jean.

They stay like that for almost ten minutes. They're completely silent, not moving a muscle, gazing at one another's bodies in admiration.

"Hey... Jean?"

"Yeah?" he replies.

"Please cuddle me."

Jean chuckles. "Of course, baby."

He pulls the blanket over the two of them and wraps his strong arms around his lover's skinny physique, nuzzling his head and stroking his cheek affectionately. "You're always so soft and warm," Jean remarks happily. "So cuddly... so _soft_..."

Armin smiles and leans back into Jean's body. "Mmm... Jean."

"What?"

"You... make me feel so amazing, Jean..."

"That's what I'm aiming for," his handsome partner grins. "I want to make you feel good."

Armin sighs against Jean's arm. "I'm sleepy," he says.

"Me too. You seem a bit less... drunk now, anyways."

"I _feel_ less drunk."

"Good. Go to sleep, angel," Jean says, rubbing his shoulders to relax him. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

Jean awakens to hear the young man in his arms whimpering and gasping.

"Armin?" he asks worriedly. "Armin, are you alright?"

There's no answer. He leans forward to see that he's fast asleep, his eyes tightly closed. He seems terrified, and Jean's pretty sure there's some kind of horrific nightmare polluting his mind, but he's scared to try to wake him in fear of making things worse.

"Armin," Jean says firmly, hoping it'll be loud enough to wake him. "Armin, baby, it's me. I've got you." He softly tugs on his hair and Armin suddenly jolts awake in his arms, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with fear.

"Nightmare?" Jean asks.

"Ah... yes," the blonde replies after pausing to think, still seeming very shaken. "I was dreaming that, um... we were outside the walls, and I saw the Female Titan again, and... I remembered how she lifted my hood up to see my face, and she did that again, except this time she seemed less intelligent than before and she was going to eat me. And then before I woke up I was falling towards the ground from my horse and I felt as if I was about to cut my head like last time... but right before I hit the ground I jumped and I woke up and my heart was pounding so hard just now."

Jean's looking at him anxiously.

"Armin," he says worriedly. "You know... ever since that expedition I've been having these awful dreams almost every night, exactly like what you just described." He clenches his fists almost as if he's angry. "This way of life is fucking destroying us."

"I know," Armin sighs. "I should be having _nice_ dreams after the wonderful things you did to me earlier, but no, I had to dream that I'm getting eaten alive like always."

"I won't let anything happen to you as long as I'm around," Jean tells him. "Not a chance. I'm never leaving your side. I'm going to look after you."

Armin giggles contentedly and soon snuggles back against Jean, who runs his fingers along his skin to calm him down. All of a sudden he's overcome with the urge to hide himself from the world, to just stay beneath the blanket away from the monsters who have ruined his life. He wants to stay here with Jean, talking and giggling about nothing while they gently make love to eachother, just relaxing together, enjoying their short lives. Sex with his lover calms him down so much that it feels like nothing is capable of hurting him, and before he knows it he's falling asleep with these thoughts, overwhelmed by a growing sense of safety and security from the arms that wrap themselves around him.

And it's not just the fading, underlying warmth of the alcohol he had earlier that's sending him into such a comfortable, deep sleep.

He doesn't have any more nightmares that night.


	29. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place shortly after chapters 53-54/episode one of season three.

I'm pissed off.

I haven't been this pissed off for a while. I hate perverts. I especially hate ones who dare lay a finger on my boy when I'm right in front of them.

It doesn't help that I'd had to disguise myself as Eren again, something I never thought I'd find myself doing for the second time, so really, my mood could only get worse from that point on.

But I just couldn't stand seeing Armin in such a state of distress. The old man had full-on groped him, right before my eyes, asking over and over to hear his voice. I was almost certain he'd known he was actually a boy disguised as Historia, but that meant nothing to me. My angel was being violated and it was hurting me badly.

There are parts of Armin's body that only I'm allowed to touch, and the fact that such a nasty old scumbag felt the need to invade his personal space made me sick. I could have punched him. I wanted to punch him. I hate perverts.

I was so fucking relieved when I finally got to hold my angel again. And even then, the man hadn't given up. _I heard you're actually a boy_ , the fucker had said. And then he'd flat-out accused Armin of turning him gay. It was awful.

I'd taken care of everything from there, told my baby not to worry anymore because I was here to help him, to get that sick fuck out of our sight.

I never want him to experience anything like that again. His sweet body belongs to me and me alone. I'll knock the lights out of anyone who dares grope him again.

I snap out of my thoughts when I realise how passionate I'm getting, so much so that I'm clenching my fists hard enough to turn the knuckles white. I breathe a sigh of relief, and when I peer at my little lover who's sleeping soundly beside me, I'm suddenly overcome with a kind of warm contentment, one I'm all too familiar with. I'd felt it when I'd finally come to after losing consciousness on Eren's recovery mission, when I'd felt Armin's warm body pressed flush against mine, and that time we'd hid high up inside the Forest of Giant Trees, when he'd asked me to check whether or not he was still bleeding. I'm happy when he's within reach.

Seeing him within the reach of that horrible man had filled me with a new kind of rage, one I preserved only for those who tried to take from me what I treasured most.

I'm not so pissed off anymore when I lean down to plant a soft kiss against my boy's silky lips. It's been a rough day, but really, there isn't a single day of our lives that isn't rough anymore. I've given up on worrying about my own life, and instead, I've decided to make Armin my priority. I understand it's unhealthy for us to be in such a close relationship when either of us could perish at any moment, but there's no going back now. We've been held in the firm grip of love for too long.

There's a quiet voice, and it almost makes me jump.

"Jean."

"Uh?" I respond, puzzled. "Armin, I thought you were asleep."

"I was."

"Oh... I'm so sorry," I apologise, tugging the blanket further up to his shoulders to keep him warm. "I must've woke you. Go back to sleep now."

"No. I'm not tired."

"Armin," I say nervously. "We're lucky to even have the chance to get a good night's rest. Don't waste it."

"I want to cuddle," he insists. "And talk. I want to hear your voice."

I sigh and shift closer to him, wrapping him in my arms, my face pressed against his golden, sweet-smelling hair. "What'd you wanna talk about?"

"Mm... what happened today."

"Today? Why would you want to remember that?"

"I wanna know what he meant. When he said he used to be normal, and that I'd... turned him into something else." I hear him exhale through his nose with amusement. "Not like I can't already guess."

"Yeah, I know," I say slightly gloomily, tugging Armin closer until he's pressed firmly against me. "None of that was your fault, Armin."

"I turned him gay, didn't I? I don't know why he was complaining."

"You didn't do anything. He didn't know when to stop. Let's leave it at that, baby."

I feel him nod in agreement, and there's a pause. It's such a sweet, cuddly, quiet moment between us, very soft and cute, and I never want to move.

"Hey, Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"How do I put this?" I feel him sigh against my neck. "I love the fact that I'm smaller than you. Um... I love when you hold me like this, y'know? I love how tall you are and how small I am compared to you."

I chuckle at his words. "That's what I've always thought, you know. You're cute and cuddly and little. Opposites attract."

"What's that fairy tale where the handsome prince gets turned into a frog and the girl has to kiss the frog to make him human again? We're like that, except _my_ prince is a horse." I feel him grin cheekily and despite the fact that I pinch his backside in response, I'm laughing.

I love these kinds of moments between us. It's nothing special because we do it all the time, but in a way, that's what's so special about it. I'd gone from being in the worst mood ever to feeling so relaxed and contented, laying here with the young man I loved the most.

I don't want to leave. I never do. I'm scared that if and when we leave our bed, we'll be separated for eternity, one of us gone for good, because we're at war and that's what war is like.

For now, though, I'm at peace. I'm no longer in a vile mood and I'm no longer filled to the brim with unresolved angst. I'm just laying here with the warm, soft little blonde who I cherish and adore, the clever and cunning soul who we couldn't get by without, the kind and loving heart who makes me want to cry because he means everything to me.


	30. Burnt Offerings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted to write cute, fluffy, domestic Jearmin because these two are so fucking married.

Light streams in from the window, and a young man stretches and yawns before tapping the shoulder in bed beside him.

"Jean, it's your turn," the sleepy blonde says, laying back down.

"Eh?" the taller man utters.

"Levi says it's your turn to help with breakfast because I've been doing it everyday and it's not fair on me."

Jean groans and stares hard at Armin, who looks like he's going to fall back asleep. "It's only 7am," Jean says vexedly.

"Yeah, and that's when you're supposed to get to work."

Jean frowns at him. "Get to work?" he repeats. "Armin, that's so not like you to say that."

"They're Levi's words, not mine." He snuggles back down, pressing his face against the pillow. Jean peels back the duvet and tugs on his arm.

"Armin," Jean says, trying to pull him out of bed while Armin sighs tiredly. "Come on, angel, you're one of the only decent cooks around here. You want a repeat of last time?"

"Huh?" the smaller responds.

"Remember what happened last time? With the toast?"

Armin lifts his head up and smiles amusedly. "Oh, yeah," he replies. "The toast. You cremated it."

"Because you weren't around to help me cook. You stayed in bed, you lazy ass."

"Toasting bread isn't _cooking_ ," Armin sniggers. "I could do that when I was five, without even burning myself. You turned it into charcoal last time and I was still nice enough to try eating it."

"If you get up, you'll be around to help me _not_ turn it into charcoal."

"Toast is super easy, Jean. Just don't take your eyes off it. I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving this bed until you've made everyone breakfast."

* * *

Jean is in the kitchen with Connie and Sasha, fuming quietly to himself.

Someone smacks him hard on the back, and he turns around to see Eren stood there, looking for trouble. "What's up, Jean? Got out of the wrong side of the bed again?"

"Shut up," Jean grumbles. "I'm making food for Armin."

"Aw, that's cute. You're cooking for your boyfriend. Take good care of him, alright? Armin means a lot to me," Eren says teasingly.

"Just leave me alone."

"I'm just saying, you know? If you don't treat him right, he'll start dating me instead, and you don't want that, do you?"

"Shut _up!_ "

"I can't believe Armin's taste in guys! You look like a horse!"

"Keep it down!" Connie groans from a few meters away. "You're getting annoying."

"Oh, what's that smell?" Sasha wonders, sniffing the air. "Smells like burning."

Eren starts laughing, realising what's happened as a result of him distracting Jean.

"Oh, fuck!" Jean shouts, taking the bread out only to find that it's hardly even recognisable as bread anymore. Connie takes one look at it and throws his head back in laughter.

"How can anyone mess up toast?" he scoffs. "It's ridiculously easy."

"I know, right?" Sasha agrees, slightly enraged at the concept of food wastage. "Me and Armin can make really complex dishes without burning a single thing."

"Be quiet," Jean snaps, trying to pick up the blackened food and hissing in pain when he does, not expecting it to be so hot.

"Don't give that to anyone," Eren warns. "You'll probably make them sick. And _certainly_ don't give it to Armin."

"I'm not planning to. Don't you worry."

A few pairs of footsteps are heard and the others wander into the kitchen, looking hungry. Armin takes one glance at Jean, one glance at the abomination he's produced, and then laughs.

"So you got out of bed to laugh at me, huh?" Jean says, throwing his arm around the blonde's thin shoulder.

"I smelled burning and I figured it was because of you."

"It was Eren's fault. He started arguing with me and... that happened. I'm so sorry, baby. I'll make something else."

"No, don't!" Sasha cries, panicked at the thought of him wasting any more food. "Don't touch anything! _I'll_ do it."

"No, I'll do it," Armin sighs, chucking the failed toast into the bin. "I'll make my own breakfast. And I'll make some for you guys too."

Jean sits at the table with his head in his hands. He peeks through his fingers to watch Armin, who's grinning to himself.

 _What a disaster,_ Jean thinks to himself. _Thank god we have Armin. He may not be strong, but he's certainly great to have around._

A few minutes later and he takes out the golden, perfectly crispy bread, which smells absolutely delicious. He brings it to the table along with lots of different toppings and Jean's slightly confused as to why he found it hard to make something so freaking simple.

"Honestly, don't worry about it," Armin says kindly, taking a seat beside him and noticing the troubled look on Jean's face.

"You're so good at everything, Armin," Jean groans.

"Everything? That's a bit much," he says doubtfully. "I didn't even make the top ten. I barely passed, in fact. I'm not strong nor fit, nor fast, either. You fly around on your gear like it's nothing."

"But you can make a really good breakfast," Jean insists, leaning over to cuddle him close. Armin giggles, enjoying the lighthearted nature of the moment. "And, you know, you always know what to do, angel. You never let us down."

"That's right," Armin agrees, grinning. "I never let us down when it comes to breakfast."


	31. Good Boy

They're putting all their energy into restraining themselves. They're desperate, almost aching, on the verge of tears by the time they reach their door. And once they breach it, they grab at one another in a fit of desperation, crushing their lips together messily as Jean coaxes his lover over to their bed, pushing him forwards so he's laid down in front of him.

A little smile dawns on Jean's face when he sees the blush starting to form on Armin's skin, when he just _knows_ how hard the blonde is getting from being loomed over so menacingly like this. Jean smiles while he unclasps his belt and allows his trousers to drop to the floor before hastily pulling off Armin's. And then, lifting a knee onto the bed and clasping his hands around his lover's wrists, he presses yet another wet, erotic kiss to Armin's lips.

The smaller moans into it, inviting Jean to take control of it and hold his jaw while he dominates the kiss and increases the intensity, thrusting his tongue into Armin's mouth and softly wriggling it against his.

"Nnh," Armin exhales when their lips finally part.

Jean pulls away from his face and stares at him. He has pink patches of heat on his cheeks, a glazed look in his eyes, and _oh god_ the way he's breathing so heavily and so wantonly is only getting Jean more and more riled up and-

"Spread your legs for me," Jean pants desperately. He's hormonal. Or something like that, anyway. Whatever the reason, he needs to fuck Armin _as soon as he can_.

It won't be as satisfying, however, unless he does a little teasing first and watches as his adorable lover struggles to bear the deprivation.

The little blonde obeys the command, lifting his thin thighs as his erection strains against the front of his underwear. Jean lowers his eyes and stares, knowing full well what reaction he'll get from Armin by staring at the bulge on his crotch so lustfully.

"H-hey, Jean," Armin says shyly. "Don't... stare at my privates like that..."

Jean wants to laugh. "Angel," he begins, daring to reach out and run a finger along the prominent tip through the fabric. "I've seen it before. So many times before."

Armin groans at both the sensations running through him and the way Jean's making him feel so bashful. "It's still embarrassing!" he wails.

"You know you want it," Jean teases, rubbing his palm against the sensitive head and watching with delight at the way Armin flinches and squirms.

" _Jean!_ "

"What, baby? What do you want?"

"Ngh!" Armin moans, bucking upwards against the young man's hand.

"Come on, out with it, sweetheart. Tell daddy what you want."

"I want you in me!" Armin pleads. "I want it rough, so rough that the headboard smashes into the wall! I've been waiting all day and I need you inside me! Please, Jean, have sex with me, I want you to touch me, _please!_ "

Jean's eyes widen slightly at his pleading tone. "Well, I never," he grins. "And here you were blushing just a moment ago. Eager now, are we?"

"Please," Armin begs.

"Please _what?_ "

"Please, daddy!"

A satisfied smirk begins to dawn on Jean's face.

"That's right," he says, lowering himself until he's lying on top of Armin, pressing his lean, muscled body against the slim, lightly toned frame. "Daddy's here to fuck you nice and deep." The smaller gives a gasp at the weight of him, not used to such pressure against his abdomen.

"I can't... breathe," he chokes, trying to pull Jean off him. "Not... so close... h-heavy..."

"You're so tiny," Jean says in admiration, loving the way Armin is crushed beneath him. "So fragile. So delicate and pretty."

"Jean!" Armin whines. "I can't breathe properly!"

"Sorry, baby," the young man sighs, raising his body. "I just love how I'm so much bigger than you, you know? You're so... small, and cute, and the fact that I'm heavier than you turns me on."

"Oh, right," Armin says anxiously, a confused smile on his face. Despite his extraordinary IQ - Jean's heard that it's over 160 - something about him is a tad naïve, as if he can't quite grasp exactly what it is about him that turns Jean on so much.

Or maybe it's just a lack of confidence and low self esteem.

Whatever it is, Jean's eager to prove to him just how fucking gorgeous he is, how angelic and precious he is to the extent that he almost feels guilty for wanting to pleasure him so obscenely. Jean loves him, but he also loves his body, his warmth, his tightness, the saltiness of his tears and the naturally sweet, feminine scent of him.

He loves every single aspect of Armin Arlert, loves to please him, loves to hear him scream as he brings him to ecstasy.

And that's what he's planning on doing.

* * *

Jean relishes in the sound Armin gives when he presses the tip to his hole and pushes inwards. It's like a cross between a whimper and a moan, a high-pitched, whiny sound of pleasure that sends a rush of heat right through every inch of Jean's body.

"Good boy," the brown haired man whispers in the blonde's ear as he penetrates him, looking down to watch his long cock slowly disappearing inside his petite lover.

Sometimes he wonders how he takes it. Jean's certainly large by most standards, and considering that Armin's naturally quite small and weak and tight, he worries about the strain his body's forced to take whenever they have sex.

"Armin," Jean says while he slowly pulls out and then pushes back in, beginning a gentle, pleasurable rhythm inside him.

"Yeah?" Armin replies, arching his back as the firm, slick head pushes against his prostate.

"You alright?"

"I am," he says happily, moaning slightly at the friction inside him that begins to increase in speed and force. "I'm always alright when you're with me, Jean."

"Ah... glad to hear that."

The brown haired man grunts as he gradually picks up the pace, thrusting into him a little more forcefully until Armin's wailing with pleasure.

"You know," Jean begins, "I worry I'm hurting you sometimes. You're always so - _ngh_ \- you're still so tight, even after how many times we've... done this."

"Ah... yeah," Armin responds, lifting his arm and using it to cover the traces of joyous tears that shine in his eyes.

"You sure you want it rough, angel? You're so small."

"I do," Armin pants, moaning at the way Jean's hands gently caress and massage his skin, relaxing his muscles around the width of his cock. "I want it hard."

"Then I'll give it to you hard. But if it hurts, you gotta tell me, baby."

"It never hurts. N-not really."

Jean glances up and stares at Armin, suddenly thrusting extra hard and deep, which forces a sob from the blonde's pretty lips.

"Did that hurt?" Jean asks anxiously.

"A little..."

"I won't be as rough as that, then. Tell me exactly what you like, and I'll do it, Armin. I want to make you feel amazing."

"I-I need it just a little gentler than that just now. Please. You can go really deep, Jean, and it - ah! - it won't hurt me, I swear." His speech is broken and shaky, interrupted by spontaneous moans whenever Jean pushes in at _just the right angle_.

"Alright then, sweetheart. Just lemme know if you need me to stop."

Jean presses the pads of his thumbs firmly against the smaller's body and snaps his hips forward, quickly and forcefully, sinking himself into the boy's tightness and watching as he throws his head back in enjoyment.

"Yes!" Armin cries happily, reaching forward to clasp desperately at Jean. "Yes, that's so perfect!"

Jean chuckles, a wide grin dawning on his handsome face while he watches him writhing and arching his back.

It's pretty much the best sex they've ever had. Jean usually likes to be gentle, mostly because the idea of hurting his angel terrifies him, but also because something about going slow and calm is so damn sweet and intimate. This, however, is just full-on, burning hot pleasure, and it makes Jean so happy that he can please his lover so well.

All that can be heard is the grunts and soft moans from Jean's lips, the continuous pants and empty vowel sounds from Armin's throat, the sound of skin hitting skin each time their hips meet with force, and the smacking of the wooden headboard against the wall. Jean never takes his eyes off the blonde, watching the way his body is forced upwards with every hit, his eyes closed, head laid back in contentment. It's a sight to behold; Armin truly is a natural beauty.

"I'm gonna kiss you, alright?" Jean tells him, leaning forwards, which forces his cock deeper inside him. He eagerly presses his lips to Armin's, hands cupping his cheeks in an almost dominant manner. He forces his tongue into the warm, wet cavity of his mouth and basks in the small sound of surprise that Armin gives.

They stay like that for a couple of minutes, pressed flush together and connected on such an intimate, deep level, their bodies together as one.

"Mm... Jean," Armin says dreamily when their lips finally part, a string of saliva between them until they pull far enough apart for it to snap.

"What's up, baby?" Jean asks, beginning his rough pace again.

"It feels so wonderful," Armin breathes, stretching out his arms.

"That's what I'm aiming for," the taller smiles lovingly, stroking and rubbing Armin's soft skin.

A few moments of pure bliss pass, in which no words are spoken - but in truth, there's no _need_ for the use of words to convey the joy that flows through them.

"Hey, Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"You know... sometimes, I feel kinda self conscious when I see how toned and strong you are compared to me."

"Wait, what?" Jean responds, moaning at Armin's sudden gasp when he slams right into his prostate. "But you've got such a cute body."

"Too small," Armin insists, panting. "I'm too short and thin and I don't weigh enough because I lack muscles. I... hate it."

"Hey, come on, why talk about this now? You're at your cutest when I'm fucking you," Jean says kindly, sounding slightly amused. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look with my cock buried deep in you?"

"Uh... no?" Armin responds doubtfully, staring up at Jean with big ocean eyes.

"Well, you do now," Jean chuckles, going a little harder and groaning at the way his tight hole clenches around him. "You're so beautiful, pretty boy. You're _so fucking cute_."

He rams into him extra hard, and Armin squeaks with delight, the bed creaking loudly beneath them.

"Just look at you, baby, laid out in front of me like this - my good boy, taking daddy's thick cock so well."

He only hits his prostate occasionally, depriving him of the intense stimulation he knows Armin really wants, intending to fuck him for as long as possible before he inevitably tenses around him and paints his stomach white.

"Armin," Jean says after a short while, overwhelmingly aroused.

"Y-yes?" Armin replies, struggling to speak amongst the provocative moans that slip from his mouth.

Jean leans forward, almost as close to him as when he'd kissed him previously. "Do you feel good, Armin?" he asks the blonde, a kind tone to his voice that implies sincerity and genuine care.

"Yes," the small soldier moans. "Yes, I do! Jean, _Jean_ , I don't want you to stop, please!"

"Don't you worry, angel. I'll thrust my cock deep into you until I cum hard inside, filling you up so nicely until your sweet little body trembles beneath me."

* * *

They orgasm simultaneously, mostly because Jean's tipped right over the edge as soon as he feels Armin tightening around his sensitive shaft.

And then they're gasping and sobbing and screaming, tensing every muscle in their bodies, falling apart with ecstasy.

Jean reaches out to gently clasp his fingers around Armin's cock, moaning when he feels his ejaculate forced onto his hand and lower stomach, hips pressed against the blonde's tight ass.

It's the first time it's happened, but Armin's crying - two pearly tears rest on his flushed and sweaty cheeks, his entire core shaking.

Jean can't believe he can make Armin feel this good. He can't even process the way he squirms and groans when he fills up his insides with his hot seed, coming inside him to show him just how close together they are, so intimate that they've become one.

When they finally regain their breath, it's like they're on top of the world.

"Ah," Armin begins. "Jean."

"Mm?" Jean responds happily, pulling out and wiping himself down with tissue.

"That was so freaking good, you know. You're really good at this."

Jean blushes slightly at such a lewd - albeit flattering - compliment. "Thank you," he grins. "There's nothing I love more than making love to you, Armin. Inside you is my favourite place in the whole world."

Armin grins back. He looks incredibly sleepy now, his eyes fluttering closed every few seconds.

"Are you tired?"

Armin nods. "Yeah... but it's too early to sleep."

"Doesn't matter," Jean insists, tugging on his lover's arms in encouragement. "Let's get into bed."

Armin stands up, Jean's fluid sliding down his thighs and making him shudder. "I'll clean you," Jean offers. "Lay down."

The blonde obeys, getting into bed and drawing up his legs, allowing Jean to lovingly dab at his thighs and ass with tissue to mop up his own semen. "Ya know," Jean grins, tossing the tissue into a bin beside the bed before tugging the covers over them both. "This might sound weird to you, but I've got this, uh, kink."

"What is it?" 

"You've probably already noticed," Jean admits. "You probably noticed ages ago, but... there's something I love about knowing that you _belong_ to me. Something about _owning_ you... it turns me on a hell of a lot."

Armin smiles in agreement. "I know," he says softly. "Um... honestly, when you give me orders and tell me that I'm owned by you, it really freaking gets me excited. I don't know what it is about it. Something to do with the fact that I'm smaller than you, maybe-" He's suddenly cut off by surprise when Jean wraps his arms around his slim frame, nestling his face into his sweet scent. "Y-yeah, that's exactly what I mean," Armin continues, sighing with happiness. "It's like... well, um, I fit in your hold. And... something about that seems so possessive and dominating, and it arouses me, the feeling of you owning me."

"Good," Jean smirks. "Because I do own you, Armin. You're all mine, angel. You're my pretty boy."

Armin moans at his words.

Jean looks down to peer at him. "Did you like that?" he asks, seeming curious. "What I just said?"

" _Yes._ "

Jean begins to rub circles against his stomach, encouraging him to sleep. "That's my good boy," he whispers in his ear, his breath tickling his lover's cheek.

They sleep like that for a long time, waking up ten hours later in exactly the same position.

It's very warm, and soft, and sweet.


	32. Bad Cooking, Strawberries, and Birthdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a whole bunch of fluff and humour because that's what I write best. On a side note, yay for _Attack on Titan: Junior High_ references.

Armin's really good at cooking.

He always has been. It's something he enjoys, and something he delights in doing for other people, especially when he sees the way their faces light up when they taste his food. He's a natural.

Jean's really bad at cooking.

But he still likes to try, because the look of gratitude and delight on his precious love's face when he tells him he's made him something is so sweet to see.

It's not always edible, and Armin always winds up being a hefty critic and pointing out everything that could have been done _so much better_ , but the adorable look on his sweet face makes up for the fact that he makes fun of Jean's inexperience.

Armin silently sits by just listening to Eren's rant, trying his hardest not to laugh. A snigger escapes and the death glare that the other young man shoots him is almost sharp enough to cut him in half.

" _Five days!_ " Eren shouts, pacing back and forth. "Five days we've gone without dinner because horseface fucks _everything_ up!" He stops pacing and turns to his best friend. "How the _hell_ do you literally set pasta on fire? How do you manage to burn something without even putting it in the oven? Tell me, Armin, what do you think of the fact that your boyfriend is actually putting effort into screwing everyone's food up?"

"I swear he isn't!" Armin insists, laughter finding its way out of his throat. He's grinning wildly. "He's just... a beginner, that's all."

"Beginner my ass! Didn't you teach him the basics a while ago?"

"Well, yeah, but it does require a little predisposed knack-"

"Shut up Armin!" Eren fumes, his stomach growling louder than his voice. "I mean, um, sorry for snapping at you and all... I just don't understand why you chose to start seeing someone so terrible."

"Because I love him," he replies simply. "He makes me happy."

"Maybe, but if and when you guys get married, you'll be the one doing all the chores."

They both sit in silence for a moment until a familiar burning smell hits their nostrils.

"Not again," Eren groans. "Armin, quick, go help him! You might be able to save our dinner."

Armin ignores him and simply sits by laughing, grimacing slightly at the odour from the kitchen.

"Armin, baby!" comes a loud yell.

"What?" the blonde yells back.

"Come help me get this rice out of the pan! It's stuck... and the chicken in the oven is a much darker colour than it should be. And something's gone wrong with the vegetables, too."

Eren facepalms as Armin gets up and wanders into the kitchen. He starts hacking and coughing as soon as he does, noticing that the air is thick with smoke.

He grabs a pair of oven gloves and opens its door, dragging out a tray with a whole chicken on it, a few flames licking around the blackened skin. He almost drops it in shock, alarmed by the fact that it's _literally on fire_.

"H-how long did you keep it in for?" Armin asks nervously.

"Not _too_ long! Long enough for it to cook properly-" He's cut off when he notices that he's left the rice and vegetables on the heat, causing them to burn and stick. "Shit shit shit shit shit," he hisses, pulling them away and stirring them. The food practically falls apart in the pan as he does.

Armin breaks down laughing once again.

"Oh, Jean," he giggles, setting the pan onto the counter and suffocating the small flames before it burns the place down.

"What?" Jean groans.

"People won't want to eat this."

"No shit," Jean replies sadly.

"What should we do?"

"How would I know? You're the one with the brains around here."

"I guess we'll just have to go hungry again."

* * *

After much discussion, frustration and stress, Armin tiredly gives in and agrees to let Jean compensate for the disappointment he's conjured up.

It's probably a bad idea, but Armin has trustworthy intuition, and he figures there's no way he can possibly mess up something he's literally just learned how to make, the instructions still fresh in his mind.

"So what's happening?" Connie asks, chin resting on his hand, looking as if he wants to sleep.

"Jean's going to try again," the blonde replies.

A loud _smack_ comes from where Eren's sitting. Everybody turns their heads to see that Eren's slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.

"You have _got_ to be _joking_ ," Eren says.

Another loud growl erupts from his stomach, sounding almost like a comedic sound effect used in a kid's cartoon.

"He won't screw up," Armin assures him. "I taught him what to do."

"Why don't you go in there and just do it yourself?!"

"Because Jean deserves a chance to shine," Armin says jokingly, smiling a menacing smile as he wanders back into the kitchen.

"Fuck my life!" comes Eren's voice.

The small young man stands beside Jean, who's stirring something in a pot and looking way more on edge than he should be. He's got a look of terror on his face that's akin to the expressions Armin's seen him sport when he's in the hands of a titan.

"Jean," he says, gently prodding him in the back. "It's alright. You don't have to be so worried. It's just food."

"But you're hungry and I want to feed you."

"If it's really stressing you, I'll take over."

" _Please do_ ," Jean begs. "Please release me from this hell that is our kitchen."

Armin laughs at his lighthearted request. "Of course. No problem." He takes a look at the food and is slightly surprised to see that it's neither burnt nor stuck to the pan. "You were doing fine by the looks of things, anyway." He nods at him and casts him a kind look. "You gotta have more faith in yourself."

"I'll always be a shit cook."

"No, you won't, because I'll teach you how to make more and more things over time. And then it'll be easier to keep Sasha happy and stop her from trying to go hunting in the woods."

* * *

The childish behaviour between Eren and Jean only seemed to get worse from that point on. Armin couldn't quite fathom the actual problem. Sure, they were lucky nobody actually tried eating Jean's creations and got sick from it or anything, but Jean wasn't a bad guy. He was sweet and loving, and if Armin was the one who had to put in the most work if they didn't want to waste food, then that's what he was willing to do.

A few days later, and Armin feels a gentle hand set itself on his shoulder.

He turns around slowly and sees his lover standing behind him, as if he's eager to tell him something.

"What is it?" Armin asks after a long and awkward pause.

"Oh, er," Jean begins sheepishly. "Just wondering, do you know what the date is? I keep losing track."

Armin looks slightly puzzled as to why he's approached him just to ask something so trivial. "It's the 3rd," he says. "Of November."

A knowing smile curls across Jean's lips. For someone so smart, it takes Armin a good few seconds to realise what this is all about.

"W-wait a second, that's my birthday!"

Jean begins to grin happily. "Can't believe it took you so long to realise! Did you just forget completely?"

"Yes!"

Jean laughs. "You remembered everyone's birthday except for your own. Come over here, I made you a cake." Armin pauses and gives him an anxious look, which conveys exactly what he's concerned about.

"Don't worry," Jean assures him. "It's edible. And according to Sasha, it's tasty. Lemme show you. I got you a gift as well."

"Y-you didn't have to!"

"Oh, but I wanted to!" He tugs on his hand and pulls him into the kitchen to see their fellow comrades gathered around the table.

"Guys?" Armin gasps. "This is for me? Why?"

"Because you deserve it," Eren says. "You deserve this, and so much more. Come on, have a seat."

The blonde sits in between his partner and his best friend while Connie picks up a knife and cuts the cake into separate slices. It's strawberry shortcake, the one Armin had taught Jean how to make a little while back. It was one of the only things he somehow never managed to screw up.

"Here, you can have an extra strawberry," Jean offers playfully, taking one off his cake slice and giving it to Armin. "Since you're the birthday boy."

Armin blushes. "I-it's just a day, it's not a big deal... but thank you so much. I can't believe you guys... you're amazing."

"You did the same on Jean's birthday, remember?" Sasha asks. "Your kindness can't go without repayment."

Armin's so happy that he could cry. Never in a million years was he expecting this. Heck, he hadn't even considered the fact that today was his birthday, let alone been expecting anything remotely like this.

"Can I..." he says after everyone's finished eating, holding onto the neatly wrapped present. "Can I open this now?"

"Of course you can, angel," Jean says, hooking an arm around him and rubbing his shoulder. "I hope you like it, anyway."

He tears off a small piece and tucks his hand inside to feel something soft and warm. Maybe wool. Whatever it is, it's really damn snuggly and he wants to hold it.

He pulls a small piece out. It's a pale orange-pinkish colour, with yellow dots in the shape of kitten faces. Once he's pulled the whole thing out, he tugs it against his chest and presses his face into the thick blanket, inhaling its comforting scent.

"So I know how much you hated winter training," Jean begins. "And that you get cold quite easily because you don't have much meat on your bones, so... I got you a really cute futon, because I know you love cute and warm things and-"

"Thank you so much!" Armin cries happily, throwing his arms around Jean. "It's _so cute!_ How did you know I was a cat lover? How did you know what colours I liked? Jean, I love love love you!"

"Ahh," Sasha coos, admiring the two lovers in their element. "You guys are so freaking adorable together."

"I'm happy for you, Armin," Mikasa says as the little blonde wraps the cute warm futon around himself and Jean. "You too, Jean. Seeing things like this... it gives me hope."

Jean cuddles up to him, cupping his soft cheeks with his hands as he tilts his face up towards his. He kisses Armin then, pressing his lips passionately to his, filling them both with a rare kind of joy.

When Jean pulls away, there are tears of joy in Armin's big ocean eyes.

"Happy birthday, baby."


	33. Softly, Gently

Jean should be surprised by how gentle Armin is, but he isn't. They've never tried this before, mostly because there's nothing Jean loves more than seeing the blonde laid out in front of him, just begging to be pleasured and dominated.

And it doesn't hurt as much as he'd been expecting it to.

"Hey... Jean?" Armin pants. It's taking a lot out of him.

"Yeah?" Jean responds, suddenly biting his lip when the blonde thrusts his cock into him at just the right angle.

"I'm... kinda out of breath, and, um... I'm starting to feel really warm. I don't know if I'll b-be able to go for much longer, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's fine," Jean reassures him. "You don't have to ask, just pull out if you need to. It's - _oh my god_ \- it's totally fine, angel." It's taking so much effort for him to speak without being interrupted by spontaneous moans.

"Hahh," Armin exhales as he loosens his already gentle grip on Jean's hips, who feels him carefully slide out of him. The smaller practically collapses on him, not used to topping at all.

"I'm so sorry, Jean," he apologises, shuddering slightly when the brown haired man begins to gently caress the small of his back. "I'm not good at this. I'm not strong."

Jean tugs him closer to his face and nestles his nose in the pretty gold strands. "Armin," he begins, "it feels fucking amazing. _You're_ amazing."

Armin looks up, almost accidentally smacking Jean in the chin.

"But I can't even go longer than five minutes! You've, um..." He doesn't know how to talk about something so lewd politely. "You've, uh, lasted for hours before."

"Never mind that. Just do what you feel comfortable with, angel. I'm more concerned about whether it feels good for you."

"But I'm more concerned about whether it feels good for _you_ ," Armin says nervously.

Jean carefully grips Armin's sides and lifts him so he can see his pretty face.

"Armin," he says. "I'm not expecting anything of you. If you don't want to be on top then that's perfectly fine."

Armin smiles at the kindness in his voice, a light blush dusting across his pale cheeks. "Thank you," he says. "But I _do_ want to, just once. It's just hard because, well... I'm weaker than you and I can't push into you all that hard."

"No, I love it," Jean tells him. "I love how _gentle_ you are, actually."

He closes his eyes when he hears the blonde give a sigh of relief. He seems a bit more confident now after their little conversation, eager to give Jean something similar to what Jean has always been able to give to him.

Jean feels the cool little hands holding onto his sides, pressing into his hot skin just firmly enough to be arousing but gentle enough to be sweet and calming. He hears Armin give a long, drawn out breath as he pushes his length into his lover, overcome by pleasure at the way Jean's tight, unused hole swallows him up so pleasantly.

He's always been a worrier, and something that's always put him on edge is the notion that Jean doesn't enjoy it as much as he does, a feeling he's had ever since the first time they'd had sex. Now that he's in Jean's position, every single one of his worries has been resolved.

It feels like _heaven_.

If Armin wasn't such a little slut for having Jean's cock inside him, he might even find himself doing this more often. He just loves the way Jean tightens and squeezes around his cock while a string of deep moans spill from his mouth; the way the man shudders involuntarily each time the head pushes against his prostate; the way Jean is laid there with his eyes closed, his expression of pleasure only growing more and more intense with every thrust.

" _Armin!_ " his voice suddenly yells, and something about hearing his own name being screamed by Jean in such an erotic manner-

"J-Jean, I'm gonna cum inside you," Armin says breathlessly, not ceasing his steady pace of thrusts.

"That's fine," Jean replies, panting as he opens his golden eyes to gaze lovingly up at Armin's blue ones. "You're doing wonderful, angel."

There's a certain gleam in Jean's eyes, one Armin has never seen before, something indicative of a loss of resistance. Weakness, maybe. He's not afraid to relax with Armin around. He can let his guard down and be unashamed of it.

Jean's close, but he wants this little moment of heaven to last forever. He's surprised by how _wonderful_ Armin's cock feels deep inside him - something about it feels so velvety and warm and soft, incredibly pleasurable but still firm and large enough to hit all the tender spots.

He's glad that he's the one Armin's fucking instead of some girl he might have met in the 104th. He's so glad he was lucky enough to have him. Either way, though, if he _had_ started seeing a girl instead of Jean, he can't help but think of how lucky she would be. He's so goddamn gentle and sweet and caring, so careful not to hurt Jean but eager to press against the little spots that force him to wail and moan with pleasure.

" _Jean_ ," he hears the soft, boyish voice gasp. "Jean."

He doesn't respond, just lays back a little further, giving himself to Armin completely.

And then the next thing he knows, Armin's almost sobbing, his fingers tightening around his muscular torso almost to the extent of leaving bruises. Jean can feel the heat filling up his insides, can feel the blonde's warm, thick semen coating the walls of his muscles so wonderfully. He contracts around him, jerking and groaning with his own orgasm while his lover releases his sperm inside him.

It takes several minutes for their breathing to slow back to its normal pace. Their hearts are pounding, their bodies filled to the brim with adrenaline.

Armin gives one quick glance up at Jean and instantly collapses against the taller man's flat, firm abdomen. Jean can still feel the pounding in the boy's chest, his body completely overworked and wonderfully sated.

* * *

When Armin notices that Jean's eyelids are growing heavy and that his body is becoming more and more limp, he slides his quickly softening length out of him and climbs upwards, straddling his chest. Jean gives a sigh of pleasure at feeling his lover pressed flush against him, the two of them completely bare and exposed to one another, so raw and pure.

"It was... kind of difficult," Armin finally admits.

"Hmm?" Jean asks.

"Topping, I mean. It took a lot of energy and strength. I just don't think I'm cut out for it."

"Really?" Jean asks, sounding amused. "I don't know, that felt pretty damn great if you ask me. Wonderful, in fact."

"But I just don't think it's for me, you know?" Armin tells him, sounding a little anxious, as if he's scared that Jean will disagree. "I don't know... it's nice, but it doesn't feel right, taking on a more dominant role."

"I do agree with that," Jean admits. "I mean, don't get me wrong, having you inside me felt breathtakingly amazing, but... it felt odd for me, being the passive one."

Armin smiles at him, looking up again and wrapping his arms around the man's neck. "I'm glad we agree. But really, I'll do anything you want me to. Even if topping isn't my thing, I'll still do it if that's how you want me."

Jean looks extremely guilty.

"What? No!" he says sadly. "No, Armin, I'm not going to take control of you like that! Angel, it's not about how I "want" you. It's about how you already are, and the fact that I love everything about you without you changing a single thing."

"Thank you," the smaller replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He looks relaxed and satisfied where he's laying atop of Jean, nestling his face against his neck.

Jean knows that if they don't move soon, they'll fall asleep like this. They almost always do. And then they'll wake up several hours later, freezing cold and hungry, and wanting nothing more than to get into bed properly and eat snacks.

"Armin?"

"Mm?"

Before he speaks, Jean clasps his hands around the boy's wrists and carefully pries him off of him. "We gotta get into bed," he says. "It's freezing."

"But it's midday!"

"Just a nap," Jean says. "I can see how sleepy you are, sweetheart. Come on, cuddle up with me. I'll keep you nice and warm."

Armin hesitates at first, knowing that if he sleeps now, he won't get tired later and he'll end up pulling an involuntary all-nighter. But then Jean begins to massage his skin and all of a sudden he's so limp and sleepy and all he can imagine is being held close against Jean.

The two get into bed, both still nude, too exhausted to even bother wearing anything. It's not like it matters, anyhow - they know eachother's bodies like the back of their hands, comfortingly familiar with one another to the extent that there is little to no bashfulness between them.

"Hah," the little blonde sighs as he's pulled into a loose but hot embrace, his nose pressed against Jean's soft skin. He smells nice, a comforting and warm scent about his body, something akin to lavender and melted butter and freshly washed cotton.

He smells of _home_.

"You alright?" Jean asks, planting small but very wet kisses along Armin's neck.

"Sleepy," is all Armin can say.

"Thought so. You can sleep on me. I'll hold you."

"Mm," Armin mumbles contentedly. "Thanks, Jean."

Holding the sweet boy close to him is one of Jean's favourite things to do.

He feels so wonderful. He doesn't feel like a soldier at all, in fact - he's not firm and rough and calloused like the other members of the survey corps. Armin is snuggly and soft and _so_ warm, Jean's favourite thing to bury his face into, to hold tightly as he falls asleep. Even without the softness of his clothes, he's still so wonderful for Jean to hold, the silky heat of his skin brushing against him slightly whenever he shifts to get more comfortable.

"Hey, Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"I, um... I know we've already discussed this just now, but is it alright if I don't top again? It just doesn't suit me."

Jean pauses before answering, "Of course. And I agree."

"It felt nice, though," he tells him.

"Good. You're my good boy," Jean murmurs lovingly into the yellow shoulder length strands of his hair. He brushes his fingers through it and says, "Have you ever thought about getting this cut? I mean, I love your hair long, but I'm just wondering."

Armin nods. "I have, but I don't want to. It's always been this long, for as long as I can remember." Then he adds, "I-I know it makes me look like a girl. Plus people usually think blonde is a girly colour. But... I think I'll keep it like this."

"Ahh," Jean replies. "It's beautiful, you know. You don't see many boys with really beautiful hair, but yours is. You're so fucking pretty, Armin. Really gorgeous."

Jean can feel the heat of Armin's cheeks, signifying a blush. "Thank you."

"It's true," Jean grins, kissing his forehead. "You beautiful boy."

Armin smiles back. "You make me so happy, Jean. Happier than I've ever been. Even in this hellish war, you make me so, so happy."


	34. Peace Will Win, and Fear Will Lose

It's during the first twelve hours after retaking Wall Maria's land, and the atmosphere is incredibly miserable, despite what they've succeeded in doing and what they've learned. It seems, to Jean, that whenever they take a couple of steps forward, they take about ten back.

His lover has been in rather bad shape, not solely from the physical toll that was taken on his body from the transformation, but from the knowledge of the fact that he _literally ate another human whole_. He's scared of himself and this almighty power that has been granted to him.

Jean still can't believe he's actually alive. He doesn't understand how he'd held on for so long after being in such a deadly state. He can't believe his heart had still managed to beat even while he was burned to the core, but even so, he's thanking the heavens that it did.

"Can I see him?" Jean asks when he reaches the door. "He's fine now, right?"

"Yes, he's doing quite well actually," Hange says. "Considering the hell he went through yesterday."

Jean enters the room and wanders over to Armin, who's curled up in bed and looking bored. His blue eyes light up when he sees him, his face changing from a dull and tired expression to one of relief. Happiness.

"Hey," Jean says, smiling at him and sitting on the bed. "How are you doing?"

"Uh... I'm okay," Armin replies. "My body's fine, actually. I'm just exhausted. Physically, I've never been better."

"So glad to hear that, sweetheart. I'm just... curious to know how you're taking things. I want to talk to you for ages."

The blonde leans closer. So close, in fact, that he can see every strand of Jean's hair, every little line of expression between his brows.

"It's mostly the knowledge of what happened that's been making me so unsteady," Armin explains. "I just feel so nauseous at the thought. I actually _ate_ my former friend who's nearly twice the size of my human height. I can't believe I turned into a _titan_... one of the horrific creatures that have taken everything from us... I'm so disgusted with myself that I wish they'd saved Erwin."

"No, no," Jean says gently, taking hold of the boy's tiny, delicate hand. Hard to believe that such a sweet and adorable little human had been capable of turning into something so terrifying. "No regrets, Armin. None from anyone. You carried out your duty and were lucky enough to survive, and that's all there is to it, baby. You've done nothing wrong."

"Hmm," Armin ponders, staring down at his hand, which is clasped firmly by Jean's. They're only just now noticing how clear and unscathed his skin is, every single blemish and scar healed after being injected with the serum. Even his hair is incredibly silky and shiny, not the slightest bit dirty or oily after such a bloodbath. He looks as if he's been reborn, and in a way, he kind of has.

"So you're not in any pain? Or anything?"

Armin shakes his head. "No. I feel okay. It's just my mood that sucks."

"I'm really surprised you don't feel happier knowing you survived, angel. I know _I'm_ happy knowing you're here and well."

"But I was planning on dying. I felt ready for my life to end."

Jean sniffs and turns his head away as quickly as he can, but Armin is sharp-witted and sees the tears fall.

"Sorry," Armin whispers, reaching out to wipe a tear off of Jean's cheek. "I'm so sorry. I know, it's really depressing."

"I just..." Jean's sobs are like small hiccups that he can't stop. "I just can't believe you sacrificed your own life. Why don't you value yourself?! Tell me, Armin, what made you think I'd be okay with you dying? What made you think _any_ of us would be okay with you dying?" His voice is getting louder and louder, and Armin shrinks back, eyes wide.

"It's just that I'm replaceable," Armin explains, staring downwards as if he's feeling some kind of shame. "And I knew that, by forcing Bertolt to emit that huge wave of hot steam, his flesh would be consumed. I-"

"You didn't have to put yourself through so much, dammit!" Jean cries, squeezing Armin's hand. "You must have been in such agony!"

Armin just stares up at him nervously. He doesn't know what to say. He knows Jean's angry, but it's not directed at him. Maybe it's directed at Bertolt. Maybe it's directed at the world itself.

"It's all okay now," the smaller reminds him. "I mean... it did hurt. A lot. The most excruciating thing I've ever experienced. But it's over. And you're here with me."

Jean blinks at him before wrapping his arms around the boy. And that's just what he is - a _boy_. He's too young, far too young to have been comfortable with sacrificing his own life. _Anyone but him_ , Jean thinks to himself as he hugs his lover tightly. _Listen, God, you probably don't even exist, but on the off chance that you do, keep Armin safe. Don't let him die anytime soon. Anyone but Armin. He's the most human out of all of us._

* * *

Jean is completely exhausted, and he can't even sleep. His head echoes loudly with millions of _what ifs_ and visions of a future he might not even live to see if this fucking war gets any worse.

 _What if Levi had chosen Erwin?_ Jean asks himself. _Would I have even been able to attend the ceremony that was held out of respect for our fallen comrades? What if Armin had been one of those fallen comrades? How would I cope?_

There's a knock on the door, and it rouses him from his depressing state. "C-come in," Jean garbles.

The door opens and Hange enters the room, holding a lit candle. "Sorry to disturb you at this hour," she says sincerely. "But Armin came to see me and he says he desperately needs to be with you. Poor little guy can't sleep."

"Oh!" Jean hurriedly says. "Of course he can see me! Is he with you now?"

She nods, and the short blonde boy wanders in, shooting a tired but friendly expression at Jean. "Hey," he says, sitting on the bed.

Hange smiles at them both. "He can stay here if he wants," she adds, nodding to the spare bed at the other side of the room. "You boys be sure to get some rest. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Jean replies, taking hold of Armin's hand.

When she leaves, they glance at eachother and grin.

"Don't think we'll be needing that spare bed, do you?" Jean smirks, pulling his lover in for a close hug.

"Nope," Armin replies. "Not when I've got you here to make room for me."

They stay like that for around ten minutes, Jean sitting up in bed, his arms snaking around Armin's waist to gently stroke his thighs and back. Occasionally his hands migrate towards his backside and Armin gives a half-giggle, half-shudder.

"Um, Jean," he begins, enjoying the physical contact. "Weird question, but do you ever think we'll be able to live like regular civilians?"

Jean pauses. He's always been very pessimistic and cynical about this whole situation, and had been convinced from the start that there was no way to rise above the beasts. And because of this, he even surprises himself with the reply he gives.

"Yes."

The big blue orbs of Armin's eyes blink at him in surprise. "Wait, really? I remember you saying when we first joined the cadets that you wanted to join the MPs because there was no way to win over the titans."

"I know," the brunet says softly. "I had myself convinced. But after actually seeing what they _do_ to people... and the agony they've put us through... it didn't put me off fighting them. Rather, it ignited a brighter spark within me than before. I realised that _something_ had to be done."

"I'm so glad you changed your mind," Armin says. "And joined the survey corps like me."

Jean doesn't respond for a few seconds. But then he whispers, "I miss Marco."

"God, so do I," Armin replies before lovingly pressing his face against Jean's shoulder. "He was a brilliant man. So kind."

"I don't know how I'd cope if we'd lost you too, Armin."

Armin lets out a sad sigh in response.

"I still feel like crap," the blonde says. "I can't even fathom what happened. Like, seriously. _I_ temporarily became one of those mindless monsters that devour human beings. I _ate_ a human being just like the rest of those beasts do. I..." His eyes widen and his breathing quickens as he grabs onto Jean. "...turned into a monster..."

Jean holds him tighter and starts to stroke his head, trying to calm him down. "Armin, Armin," he whispers soothingly. "Armin, baby, listen. You're still you, you're no different from the rest of us other than the fact that you have this deadly power inside you that we can use to our advantage. You're just like Eren, now."

"I know," he says, voice muffled slightly by Jean's shoulder, which is soft and comfortable against his skin. "But wouldn't you feel kind of disturbed too? The fact that you swallowed a human whole? I know Bertolt was our enemy but I never imagined I'd _eat_ him."

"You were unconscious," Jean reminds him. "You did everything you were supposed to do. You're a hero, you know."

Armin blushes. Jean knows he's doubting himself, just like he always does whenever he receives praise.

"It's true," Jean insists.

Armin only blushes pinker, but this time accepts the statement as reality.

"Thank you so much, Jean."

He shuffles up towards him and rests his head on Jean's lap, snuggling against him. He lets Jean pet him, smoothing down his soft hair as he slowly starts to drift off to sleep.

"Sweet boy," the brunet whispers, and Armin gives a happy sigh of appreciation.

Maybe - just maybe - they'll be okay.

They might live for another few years yet.

However long they have left, they don't want to spend it fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I think hurt/comfort Jearmin is one of my favourite things to write. Like I can just imagine this happening in canon. The thought of Armin being really unhappy and Jean making him feel better by cuddling him and calling him nice things makes me want to fangirl so hard.


	35. The Ups and Downs of Winter Training

Jean's trying to find some disdain for the freezing wind and snow that forces him to shudder beyond his control, but he can't. He looks upon the other cadets and realises that, considering he himself is fairly stocky and well built with muscle, he's one of the lucky ones. The small, skinny ones seem to be suffering the most - Christa, Connie, and Armin for instance - and Jean feels kind of bad for them.

The cold has never really bothered Jean. He used to love playing in the snow as a child, and as much as he wants to complain about the uncomfortable weather, he just can't.

He can't do anything about the other two considering they're nearer to the front, but he's walking beside Armin, and he figures that locking his arm with him might be of a little help.

"How much further?" Jean pants, turning his head to gaze at Armin, who's also shivering.

"Not sure exactly," the boy replies. "But we're over halfway."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I am," Armin assures him. "I'm holding up better than last time."

Jean turns his head to look at the heavy logs Armin's carrying on his back. He's surprised to see that Armin's carrying much thicker ones than he is, and there seems to be a few more of them, too. "Why do you have so much weight to carry?" Jean asks breathlessly. "That's not fair on you."

"Don't worry about it. They're being hard on me because I'm one of the weaker ones. Take a look at how many Christa has to carry."

Jean looks extremely concerned. "Where's the logic in that?" he says, enjoying the sound of the several inches thick snow crunching beneath his boots. "They can't push you too hard just because you aren't naturally strong."

"I-I know," Armin pants, almost tripping and suddenly reaching out to Jean for balance. He shakily thanks him for stopping his fall. "B-but it's just how things are, I guess."

Jean can't find the right words to say. He wants to take some of the logs off of Armin. It doesn't seem fair.

Armin seems to read his mind somehow. "Don't," he says, knowing what Jean's thinking of doing. "You could get us both into trouble."

"What about that time Reiner helped you?"

"That was different. Shadis was in front of us. He'll see us this time, and so will anyone else who's keeping an eye on us."

Jean gives a little nod of understanding.

He can't wait to get into the warmth. His toes are painfully numb, despite the thick boots that shield them from the snow. He can't even feel the skin on his face, and each breath he exhales forms a cloud of vapour in the freezing air. Occasionally a large snowflake will fall down beneath his coat and make him gasp with surprise.

"Hey, Jean," Armin's soft, high voice whispers. "I'll make you some tea when we get back."

"Ah," Jean replies happily. "Thanks, Armin."

"Can we talk for a bit? It makes the time go faster."

"What'd you wanna talk about?"

"Anything you want. Just stuff. About life."

"Oh?" Jean cocks an eyebrow, diverting his attention from the hazardous conditions.

The brunet slips on a patch of ice buried beneath a layer of snow and instantly falls forward, catching the toe of his shoe on a thick tree root. The wood he's been carrying on his back falls everywhere. He hits his head against the solid ice beneath the snow and groans in pain. "Jean!" the boy gasps, leaning down behind him, not even caring about the freezing snow that leaves wet patches on his knees. "Jean, are you alright?!"

He gives another sound of pain, attempting to stand up before realising his boot is stuck beneath the firm root. "Oh, shit," he groans, now freezing cold and soaking all over. He pushes himself up while Armin tries to force the root to give way, but it's stuck firmly in the ground.

"Guys!" a male voice calls. "You alright?"

They glance up to see Marco and Eren heading towards them, golden torches shining brightly against the snow.

"We're good," Jean replies, brushing the snow off him and shivering. "Just tripped and hit my head."

"Can't you get up?" Eren asks before glancing down and seeing Jean's boot stuck. "Just take your boot off."

"And hop the rest of the way?" Marco asks while he gathers up the logs, slightly amused. "Or get frostbite in one foot?"

"No, it's okay, I got it," Armin says, hammering the root with a sharp stone until it snaps. Jean breathes a sigh of relief and gets up.

"God, thank you so much," he thanks Armin, wanting to reach over and plant a casual kiss on his cheek but at the same time worried the cold will get the two of them stuck together.

"We'll walk the rest of the way with you if you want," Marco offers, handing a torch and the rest of the wood to Jean.

The base isn't too far away now - the lights are visible through the blizzard from where they are, and it's comforting to see. It's a relief.

Eren suddenly glances over at Jean. "So why are you and Armin still dating?" he asks, as if it's a problem.

Armin looks extremely uneasy, but keeps quiet. "Because we love eachother," Jean replies, looking taken aback. "Why else?"

"Well," Eren begins, getting pissed off at the snow that keeps falling into his eyes. "You know, I worry that you're using him."

"What?" Jean stops in his tracks and his lover has to pull him forwards to get him to walk again. " _Using_ him? What for?"

"I just feel like you only want him because he's cute and small and has a nice tight ass for you to bury your dick in. That's all."

Armin could have _died_ upon hearing this. Jean was furious.

"Eren," Marco says, looking horrified. "That's... really not a nice thing to say."

"I'm only looking out for my friend-"

"You shut the fuck up!" Jean yells, the volume of his voice almost competing against the loud howling wind. He grabs Armin by the sleeve. "Come on, angel, let's go."

Eren sniggers, overcome with a sense of accomplishment at having pissed Jean off. "Hahaha," he calls as the two swiftly head forward. "Fucking loser."

And now, all of a sudden, the cold is starting to bother Jean.

"I'm so sorry," the little blonde apologises when they near the light of the cabin. "I can't believe he said that. I know you're not using me. I love you, Jean. Please try not to pay attention to him."

Jean just looks at him sadly.

"I love you too," he says caringly, squeezing Armin's small hand through their gloves. "Let's get inside and forget about it now."

* * *

The two lovers are pretty certain they've never felt this relieved. They cuddle up together on the sofa, sharing a thick woollen blanket as they sip sweet hot tea by the fire.

The door opens and Eren's voice fills the air. Jean rolls his eyes.

"Let's just leave it," Armin says quietly, leaning over to rest his head on Jean's chest. "Pretend nothing happened, okay?"

The brunet nods.

Armin still can't believe it. He knows Eren's not a bad guy, but that vulgar comment seriously took him aback. He loves Jean from the bottom of his heart, and hearing something like that coming from Eren almost physically hurt. It pierced him from the inside, a metaphorical dagger jabbed straight into his chest.

"Hey, Jean?"

"Mmm?"

"I know just now we agreed to pretend it didn't happen, but, you know... I know you're not using me."

Jean smiles and holds him a little tighter, pressing his face against the pretty tresses of hair. "I know, baby. It's just... Eren, you know? He's always hated me ever since I doubted him and called him suicidal for wanting to fight titans. I guess he's just not okay with me dating his best friend."

"It's not about whether or not he's okay with it," Armin says firmly. " _I'm_ okay with it. More than that, in fact. I feel like I'd break without you."

"Aw, Armin." Jean feels a sense of warmth rising inside him, something calm and joyous to neutralise the freezing weather. He strokes the boy's head, hardly even noticing the fact that his long blonde hair is quite messy and knotty after a long day in freezing conditions.

He looks at it carefully then, noticing it becomes curly when it gets wet. He starts twisting his index finger around some of the slowly forming curls, admiring the way they spring back into place whenever he tugs on them and then lets them go.

When Jean's least expecting it, Armin reaches over onto a small table and picks up a biscuit out of a metal tin. He brings his hand over to Jean's mouth, feeding him. They both chuckle.

"I can't believe you just did that," Jean laughs when he's swallowed it. "That's really cheesy. Like what they do in romance novels."

"No, it's cute," Armin insists. "You feed me now. They're fresh out of the oven and I need warming up."

Jean pulls one out of the tin, this one a different shape with a different topping, and feeds it to Armin who smiles gleefully. "It's really yummy," he says happily. "And so _warm_."

Today has absolutely sucked up until now, but at present, everything seems so wonderful - the coziness of the cabin, the sweet warmth of the biscuits and tea, the softness of the blanket they're falling asleep against, the gentle _thu-thump_ of Jean's heart that Armin can hear... it's all very sweet and relaxing, very happy, very romantic.


	36. Big Ocean Eyes

Jean loves the curious and innocent look Armin often has in his eyes. His eyes are big and blue, vast and deep like the ocean he wants to see. Jean loves to see the blonde looking up at him affectionately, allowing himself to be pulled against his lover, so earnest and submissive.

Armin's big, expressive eyes are one of Jean's favourite things about him.

They're nothing like Jean's eyes. Jean has narrower, slightly intimidating but extremely attractive eyes, golden in colour and sharp in gaze. He's actually been described by Armin as having the same criminal look in them as his best friend Eren, but it certainly didn't sound like he was complaining.

During one certain evening, the taller of the two looks down and catches a glance of the look that's always apparent in Armin's eyes whenever there's something on his mind.

"What's up?" he asks quietly. "You look concerned."

"Ah... yeah," he says, in his soft, boyish voice. Jean loves his voice. It pairs so well with his own deeper, harsher voice, as if neutralising Jean's slight bitterness.

"What is it, angel?"

A deep blush begins to form on Armin's face. "I, uh... it's personal."

"Oh?" Jean wraps his arms around him and tugs him closer. "Baby, it's alright, it's just me. You know how close we are. You can tell me anything you want."

The shy boy hunches up his shoulders and squeezes his eyes shut, knowing that it's hopeless trying to hide how flustered he's become.

"Um... well, I-I'm really horny and you know... well, you probably already know, but, um, when I get really aroused... it kinda hurts, and it's uncomfortable and frustrating, and..." He's speaking in broken sentences and he's getting pissed off with his own feelings of anxiety. He leans closer to Jean's ear. "I c-can't stop thinking about sexual stuff and I have an erection that just won't go away no matter what I do. It's bothering me."

A gentle smile dawns on Jean's face.

"It's okay, baby," he says softly, brushing his hands against the soft yellow strands on his head. "Listen, Armin, I'll pleasure you whenever you need me to. I know about this... thing you have where you get really unhappy when you can't get yourself off. I'm here, sweetheart, I'm here to pleasure you, because I love you."

Armin shudders slightly, clearly turned on by Jean's caring words.

"I just really don't want to be a pain. I don't want you to have to put effort in purely because I feel like I need to orgasm. I should be able to do it myself but sometimes I just _can't_."

"You, a pain? You have never been a pain. Don't be silly," Jean grins, holding the boy tightly before gently lowering him onto the sofa. "Armin, baby, I'll take literally any chance I can to pleasure you. Fuck, you're not a pain at all, you make me so goddamn happy."

Armin giggles within Jean's hold. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jean looms over a little more, his hot breath tickling the smaller's ear.

A rogue hand begins snaking up Armin's thigh. Jean knows he shouldn't be teasing, but he adores the way Armin whines and mewls and quivers when his hands brush over him, growing closer and closer to the erogenous zone between his legs until he's groaning in frustration.

" _Jean!_ " he wails.

Jean chuckles at him. "What's up?"

"Don't be a _tease_! Just make me cum already, I'm begging you!"

Jean raises his eyebrows. "Someone's getting worked up," he says seductively, sliding his hand down the front of his off-white trousers. He's still in uniform and the tight brown straps on his thighs are proving to be quite the annoyance, but he's sure Jean will find a way around it.

And then, contrary to the teasing nature of his actions just now, he doesn't even hesitate. He shoves his hand beneath Armin's underwear, rubbing his hand against the warm hardness of his cock, noticing the gathered moisture against his tip. He absolutely loves knowing that Armin's actually soaking through the fabric because of how _needy_ he is, his organ _wet_ with precum, begging to be touched by his lover's skilled hands.

Beneath his clothes, Jean wraps his fingers around the shaft, squeezing slightly every few seconds, loving the way Armin moans each time he does. And then he travels upwards towards the tip, running his cool, soft fingers over the mushroom-shaped head and delighting in the way Armin softly whines.

"Take me out of my clothes," Armin requests. "Please, Jean!"

"Nope. Not just yet, sweetheart," Jean refuses, pumping his hand along his length.

Armin groans, practically thrusting himself against Jean at this point.

"You know, angel, I just _love_ the fact that this sensitive part _here_ " - He runs his fingers across the tender head again - "is exposed for me to touch so easily."

Armin was circumcised: Jean wasn't. And he loved to use this to his advantage.

"Ah!" Armin gasps when the fingers gently rub into the slit. "God, that's really tender, Jean!"

"You love it though, don't you? You love everything daddy gives you."

" _Yes!_ "

"Good boy. Now keep still for daddy. I wanna make you cum so hard."

* * *

It's at that point that Jean decides he won't stop until his lover spills his load right into his hand and beneath his clothes. He rubs and strokes and caresses and gently squeezes, forcing Armin to arch his back and choke out sobbing moans as he nears his climax.

"JEAN!" he yells, practically crying, his whole body tensing up beyond his control. "Jean, Jean, Jean!"

The taller watches with pleasure as Armin orgasms violently, filling his garments with his sperm and coating Jean's hand in the warm, thick fluid.

But he doesn't remove his hand for a second, relishing in the release the blonde gives. He loves that he can bring him such relief, loves that he's always there to make him feel wonderful when he's stuck in a rut.

Jean listens closely as his breathing gradually slows back to its normal pace.

"I bet that felt great, didn't it?"

"It did," Armin sighs happily.

"You know, Armin, I actually kind of like it when you're really frustrated and can't get yourself off. It's hot," Jean remarks.

Armin frowns a little. " _Hot?_ It's not meant to be."

"Oh, but it is," Jean chuckles. "The way you pant and groan and writhe. The fact that you're so _desperate_ and can't do anything about it no matter how much you touch yourself. It fucking turns me on."

Armin grins a little. "So I could use that to my advantage, huh?"

"Well, I suppose you could," Jean grins back.

Armin isn't expecting what he does next. He knows himself that he's not quite satisfied and never really will be until he's coming dry, but he doesn't understand how Jean can pick up on that.

The brunet wets his fingers, hastily shoving them into the blonde's trousers and using his other arm to lift his skinny thighs up, giving him access to his beautiful tight hole.

He doesn't even ask. Just goes straight in for it, jabbing a couple of fingers into him and panting with arousal at the way Armin cries out in surprise, swiftly lifting a hand to his mouth in an attempt to quieten down.

"Move your hand," Jean says heatedly as he fingers him roughly, rubbing and poking his insides just as he knows he likes. "Don't hide anything from me, boy."

Armin shakily obeys, slowly lowering his trembling hand to reveal the deep pink flush spread across his cheeks, letting the soft whimpers and moans of pleasure fill the room.

Jean continues to be rough. He knows Armin wants this; he doesn't even have to ask at this point, just spreads his lover's legs a little wider and shoves his backside upwards, thrusting his wet digits into him. He's relishing the way he takes it so well, the way they're so cleanly sheathed inside him.

He gives him _exactly_ what he wants then and there. No teasing, no giggling, no denial, no whines of frustration - just incessant stimulation against the sensitive gland inside Armin, the continuous pressing and stroking against the bundle of nerves, each and every move sending bolts of bliss through the blonde's small body.

Jean peers down at him, smiling. He's loving the way Armin's dark brows furrow, the way his fringe sticks to his sweaty forehead, the way his slim legs tremble and shake as he nears orgasm - and how the broken, quivering breaths and whimpers erupt from his throat beyond his control.

After several minutes of no words being spoken - it's basically impossible for either of them to speak while he's making such gorgeous sounds - Armin suddenly blinks his eyes open and cries out.

" _Jean!_ " he shouts, his hips jerking of their own accord from the torturous overstimulation. "Jean, I n-n-need to cum! Oh my god! J-JEAN!"

"Go on then," the brunet grins, so completely and utterly turned on by the delicious sight before him. "Cum all over my hand, angel. I want to feel you all over me, you cute little shit."

Armin reaches over and grips Jean's sleeve, burying his face into his chest and gasping. Every muscle in his body contracts violently, spurts of cum forced out of his member and onto the underside of Jean's wrist and his clothes. It seems to last longer than usual, a whole _ten seconds_ of intense pleasure that Jean still can't believe he's actually capable of bringing him.

* * *

Every time Armin pleads him to stop, Jean does. And then he'll look up at him with his big blue eyes and completely contradict himself.

"N-no, I didn't mean actually stop! Jean, it feels so good, please don't stop!"

"You sure?" the golden eyed man asks anxiously. He doesn't cease his actions. He's touching him _so good_ \- in all the right places - moving his hand along his cock at a terrific speed as he fingers him deeply, curling the digits against his sweet spot with extreme accuracy.

"Baby?" Jean asks when Armin's too far gone to reply. "You okay? If you need me to stop, I promise I will."

"Jean, don't stop, please, I need this oh my god please _don't stop Jean_ -"

He's interrupted then, overcome by what he's pretty certain is his fifth orgasm, which washes over him completely unexpectedly. He claws desperately at Jean, hardly even coming at all; virtually dry.

"Oh my god," Armin breathes, his chest rising and falling with every deep, quick breath. He lays down, completely exhausted and sated, the intense pleasure flooding into something more relaxing but equally as wonderful.

His eyes slowly close, his consciousness almost taken by sleep until he feels Jean's gentle hands caressing his skin.

As heavy as his eyelids are, he opens them again, batting the thick dark blonde lashes at Jean, who's looking down and smiling kindly at him.

"How do you feel?" he asks, smoothing down his hair.

Armin exhales audibly and replies, "Really nice."

Jean gives a happy murmur. "Good," he says, planting a loving kiss on Armin's damp forehead. "Good boy. My good boy."

A few minutes of silence pass, within which Armin suddenly realises he's completely naked while Jean is fully clothed. He can't make himself care a thing about that, though. Not while he's so content and peaceful.

"Jean... we should take a bath, don't you think?"

"Mm? Yeah, guess we'd better," Jean agrees, glancing down at the drying semen on Armin's body. "I'll get in with you since I need one anyway. I'll wash you."

He gently pulls the boy upright, wrapping him in the cute futon he bought for him a while ago. Armin's so sleepy after such strong orgasms that Jean practically has to tug on his wrist, almost worried that he'll break him somehow because he just seems so tiny and delicate.

"It's ok," Armin mumbles, eyes flickering closed. "You can pull me if you want. I'm just... falling 'sleep."

And then Jean picks him right up, eliciting a surprised murmur from him when he feels himself being lifted. He carries him gracefully to the bathroom, treating him as if he's the most beautiful thing on this planet, which Jean knows he is.

He sets him down on the side of the bath as he fills it with warm water, keeping an eye on him in case he suddenly falls asleep again and loses his balance. He almost slips back into unconsciousness occasionally, his eyes closing and his body shifting to the side before Jean catches him and stops his fall.

When the bath is full and at the right temperature, Jean strips himself of his clothes before gently tugging away Armin's futon, sitting himself down in the bath and pulling the little blonde into his lap.

"Hah," Armin sighs happily, delighting in the hands that are wrapped securely around his waist.

"You can sleep like this, if you want," Jean says, picking up a sponge and lathering soap against Armin's skin. "I'll hold you. You don't have to worry about falling too deep into the water."

"Thanks, Jean," he says sleepily, tilting his head back against the man's firm, toned chest.

He almost nods right off while Jean washes him, his strong albeit gentle hands exploring and lovingly touching every inch of him. Armin gasps in slight pain when Jean grazes over his still half hard length, the skin still a little tender from Jean's slightly rough actions earlier.

"Sorry," Jean says, nuzzling his shiny blonde tresses.

"O-ow... it's ok."

"Is it sore?" Jean asks.

Armin nods tiredly, too spent to really talk.

"I promise I won't be as rough with you next time. You should have told me I was hurting you, angel."

"It felt good when you were doing it though."

"I don't wanna do anything that's gonna be painful afterwards," Jean explains, wetting Armin's long hair and rubbing shampoo into it. It tickles pleasantly against his cheeks and scalp. "Remember that time I fucked you so hard you were in slight pain for a whole week? I felt so awful. I'm so sorry."

"But only 'cuz I asked for it. It's okay."

"I don't want you in pain, sweetheart."

Armin turns his head and smiles at the brunet. "I'm just so sleepy right now, Jean. I can't... even think properly."

"It's alright," Jean replies, rinsing the suds out of his hair. "You just relax, okay? I'll take care of you."

* * *

Armin can't believe how loved Jean makes him feel. Everything from the way he leaves warm kisses over every inch of his body to the way he gently rubs the towel over him to the way he holds him close in their bed. He can't get enough of him.

"So sleepy," is all Armin can say.

"And it's only eight O'clock," Jean chuckles, twisting his finger around a blonde curl that's formed from the wetness. "I think the others will be back soon."

"My friends," Armin mumbles.

"Yeah. That really strong Asian girl and that suicidal bastard."

"Hush," Armin groans. "They were always there for me when we were kids."

"You got _me_ now," Jean grins. "I'm just kidding though, baby, I promise. Heck, I used to have a _crush_ on that girl before I spotted you. And I know Eren's not that bad. Just a bit... shouty."

"He's a good guy," Armin says, yawning. "You're _my_ good guy, though."

"Sleep, angel," Jean encourages. "Look at you, you spent all morning lifting heavy boxes and all afternoon training and you're completely drained. Rest, now."

"It's the way you touched me earlier that really did it," Armin says happily, finally snuggling against Jean and letting his unconscious slip over him.

When Jean's certain that he's out, he kisses his nose playfully and whispers, "You cute little shit."


	37. Small, Skilful Hands

Being a soldier has never gotten easier over the years. There're the certain parts they never get used to - seeing the bodies of their fellow comrades so lifeless, hearing the screams and cries of agony, seeing the masses of blood, witnessing the horrific violence. No matter how often they have to confront it, it never gets better.

Jean knows he'll never be the same mentally after witnessing such cruelty. He's not an outspokenly "good guy", but he has a big heart beneath that super-macho-brash-angry-tough-dude demeanour, enough so that he'd put his life on the line to save another if the need ever arose.

At present, just being conscious is taking a toll on him. But he's terrified to go back to sleep for fear of the nightmares that'll haunt him. He knows he can't escape; he sees the Female Titan in his thoughts, and he'll see her again in his dreams, the way she swatted his fellow comrades like flies, the way she crushed them as if they were nothing but bodies without a heart and soul.

It's the day after the expedition, and he feels sick. He can't eat, he wants to cry, he wants to vomit. He saw people _die_.

"Jean?" a polite voice asks. He sounds so kind, and proper. He knows it's Armin. He could recognise that beautiful voice a mile away.

"Fucking hell," Jean groans, not getting up.

"It's... almost 1pm," Armin says nervously. "You slept in so late. But I covered for you, so don't worry."

Jean curses again. Armin doesn't even have to ask what's wrong, because it's obvious. The blonde doesn't really swear at all, but yesterday he'd yelled out during the moment he was convinced he'd die, begging Jean to avenge the "suicidal bastard" that he'd managed to convince him had been killed by the monster.

"How are you coping?" Jean suddenly asks, sitting up.

"Well... not too great," Armin admits. "I should be asking you the same thing, really."

"I feel like shit," Jean grunts. "The things we saw yesterday... they don't seem real. God only knows how you felt after seeing Eren being eaten alive that time."

Armin winces. "Please don't remind me."

"Sorry, angel."

The brunet eventually sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, stretching out his limbs as if he's woken from a peaceful sleep. It wasn't peaceful by any stretch of the definition. He'd been plagued by flashbacks all night long: images of blood, of pain, of grief. There was no escaping the horror beyond the walls.

"Ouch..." Jean complains, rubbing a spot between his shoulder blades. "I ache all over on the inside."

Armin pauses for a moment before saying, "I have an idea. I'll help you. Let me just get something."

Jean raises his eyebrows in confusion, but doesn't ask.

A minute or so later, the blonde returns holding some kind of small pot. "Lay down," he gently commands, reaching out to pull off Jean's top. "On your stomach."

Jean's not quite sure where this is heading, but either way, he trusts Armin enough to know he has only good intentions.

The boy practically climbs on top of him, legs knelt either side of his hips to press himself cleanly against Jean's backside. Jean has no idea what he's up to, but he does hear the sound of some kind of lid being removed.

Then there are a pair of cool, moist, gentle hands against the back of his neck and the fleshy parts of his shoulders, rubbing and pressing lightly, stroking, caressing.

"God, that's nice," Jean sighs happily, and a giggle comes from the blonde behind him. His tiny hands continue their intricate work, rubbing the oil into his skin as he slowly moves down his back, stroking and pressing into every inch. There are a few patches of flesh that are slightly flushed from exertion, the firm muscles beneath them having been pushed to their limit during the day before. Armin's extra careful around these tender spots, not wanting to hurt Jean but at the same time wanting to help alleviate his discomfort.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" Jean asks.

"I read about it in a book when I was a child, and I wanted to try it. I figured it might help you, even just a little." He leans down and kisses the back of Jean's head.

"It feels bloody wonderful," Jean moans, an almost sexual tone to his voice. "I'll do this to you sometime, alright?"

"Y-you don't have do! I don't want to be a pain..."

"Armin, baby, it's only fair," Jean chuckles, tilting his head to the side in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his lover's big eyes.

He's not really surprised by what he sees in them, but it's not anything he was expecting.

Armin has a look of great care in his eyes, a genuine, deep gaze of sincerity. He looks focused and loving, a slight expression of happiness flashing across his face for just a second each time Jean sighs contentedly.

"Your skin is so soft," Armin comments. "It feels really lovely."

"Yours is softer," Jean insists.

"Not really. I have a lot of small scars and blemishes now."

"So do I. Doesn't matter a thing to me, baby. And oh, _god_ , your hands feel so _wonderful_. So little and delicate."

"Mm," Armin responds, carefully pressing against his lover's well-muscled form. "I used to hate them. They're like girls' hands."

"I find them attractive," Jean tells him, leaning back a little against the palms of Armin's hands and enjoying the way the soft flesh presses against his sore back.

* * *

The pair remain silent for a short while. No words are necessary - neither is keen on the idea of disrupting the sweet, quiet peace between them. Or, atleast, until Armin starts to gently rub his crotch against Jean's backside without warning.

He stops massaging his back, and instead squeezes his thighs around Jean's hips, brushing his crotch firmly against the man's well-toned behind. The taller gives a low, delighted hiss, loving the slight weight and warmth against his body.

Armin leans forward and whispers in his ear, "If you want, you don't have to get up at all. We can stay like this."

Jean shoots him a cautious glance, seemingly apprehensive.

"It'll be fine," the small young man assures him.

"Alright," Jean whispers.

The boy leans forward and begins to kiss Jean's neck and upper back, ignoring the bitter taste of the oil that still lies on his skin. Jean loves the feel of him atop his body, the warmth and softness of his small, lithe form, the hot wetness of the kisses dotted lovingly against his sore skin.

Armin inhales deeply and says, "You smell like home."

"Hmm?" Jean asks, leaning forwards while Armin cuddles him mercilessly from behind. The slippery and slightly sticky substance on his skin doesn't seem to be bothering the blonde in the slightest.

"Just... home," Armin continues, sounding relaxed. "You remind me of nice, clean bedsheets, and sweet scented soap, and books... and tea. Being with you - it makes me feel like I've found a new, proper home."

Armin can't see it, but Jean's face lights up. "Yeah," he agrees softly. "You know, I've never thought of it that way before. Like we've kind of found a place to be again."

"You're my favourite place to be," Armin giggles, burying his nose against Jean's hair and holding him tight. "I'll always look after you. Even if it means spending ages massaging your back, I'll do it. Because I love you, Jean."

"Ahh," Jean grins happily. "God, this is so fucking cheesy, ya know? But I don't care. I love you, Armin."

"Mmm," Armin sighs. "Let's... go back to sleep, Jean. Let's sleep all day, like this, with me on your back holding you. With no one to disturb us. Let's just sleep."

"Sleep," Jean agrees, sounding relaxed at the thought. "Yeah... let's sleep, baby."


	38. Fourth Time's a Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All written retrospectively.

The first attempt was during one night in the barracks while everyone else was - assumedly - sound asleep.

Sharing Jean's bed was never too much of an issue now that Armin had learned exactly which floorboards not to step on, lest he make a noise. And as a result of his increased stealthiness, getting up and falling asleep in his lover's arms was a more regular occurrence now.

He'd heard Jean sigh deeply. Happily. And then, to his surprise, he'd felt the strong arms lifting his light body, setting him down atop his bare, toned midriff.

"Jean?" Armin had whispered. "What are you doing?"

Jean had looked up, smiling a kind smile that almost made Armin's heart melt completely.

"Do you..." the brunet had began. "Do you wanna do it?"

Armin paused. He knew what Jean was insinuating, and he wasn't sure he was ready. But would he _ever_ be? It would hurt, wouldn't it? What if he wasn't good enough for Jean? What if-

"It's alright if you don't, my love," Jean told him.

Armin knew he wanted to. He'd been wanting to for a while, atleast a few months. He'd always been too afraid to bring it up, fearful of being rejected.

But it was _Jean_ who was the initiator.

What could go wrong? He'd be gentle, right? And he was certain he'd know exactly what to do.

"Armin?" Jean eventually whispered when the blonde remained silent.

"I-I don't know," Armin replied quietly. "I mean, I do want to, at some point. It's just... I don't know if I'm ready, you know? I'm inexperienced... and it'll be so painful."

Jean gave a tiny laugh, and Armin felt the warm, soft breath against his neck. "We're _both_ virgins, silly. I'm not just gonna shove it in you and hope for the best. It's fine if you say no, baby. I just need to know what you want."

"I don't think I can right now," Armin replied. "I'm so sorry."

Jean hooked an arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. "It's fine. Don't apologise, angel. I understand."

"Truth is, I'm scared," Armin had admitted.

"And it's my job to comfort you," Jean had told him. "I can wait as long as you need me to. Don't ever forget that, okay? I will _never_ let you feel pressured."

* * *

The second time could be perceived as being either a little more or a little less awkward. Maybe more so because of the fact that they were outside and in a slightly more creative position, but maybe less so because of all the intense foreplay that had been going on anyway.

Armin had been pressed against the back of the cabin, pushed upwards with his legs wrapped around the taller's shoulders while Jean left wet kisses and hickeys all over every bare patch of skin he could find. Armin knew what it'd inevitably lead up to, but he was enjoying it too much to step in and say he didn't feel like it just yet.

But that was okay, because Jean cared. And because he cared, he asked.

"Armin, do you want me to..."

Armin didn't have to ask for clarification.

"Not yet," he said. "But... I really like the way you're touching me now."

Jean glanced up to make brief eye contact while he snuck a hand up the boy's shirt and began to gently rub and tweak his right nipple. "Like this?" he whispered.

Armin pushed his head back, hitting it against the firm wood and not giving a single fuck about the pain that shook through his skull. "Yes," he hissed, squeezing his thighs around Jean as the skilful lips began their work once again.

"You fucking beautiful little thing," Jean murmured against the soft skin. "Bloody gorgeous. I can't wait to get inside you one day."

"One day," Armin promised, moaning again when Jean began to rub his firm member through his clothing.

"I wanna make you feel so amazing, angel," Jean told him, kissing and sucking gently against every sensitive spot within his reach.

Usually, Armin was very modest - and the whole of the 104th seemed to be aware of it, despite the fact that he wanted to keep himself away from attention as much as possible. That was why he almost _wanted_ someone to come outside and see him behaving so filthily, take in the hot sight of he and Jean and realise that the "angel boy" wasn't as pure as he looked.

* * *

The third time was really, really close. Armin had almost given in, despite knowing that, deep down, he'd feel better growing a little closer to Jean before engaging in something so intimate. Intimacy still frightened him at this point - not as much as it used to, but it made him just as nervous as it made him excited, and by now he'd realised that his natural shyness was becoming a real barrier between himself and what he wanted to do.

He'd almost given in to his own guilt, too. He hated the fact that he was teasing Jean so badly, intentional or not. Jean tried to hide his desire, but Armin was good at reading people.

"I won't do it until I'm 100% certain you're okay," Jean had said.

"But how do you know I'm not okay?" Armin asked bravely.

"I can see it, trust me. You're on edge."

"I-I'm not!" He _was_.

"I won't do it, sweetheart. I refuse to make you feel uncomfortable."

Armin looked down at the floor and sighed with exasperation at his own lack of confidence. "I hate myself, Jean. I _want_ to do it. I _want_ to have sex. But I'm worried about the pain and what I'll be like afterwards."

"What do you mean?"

"I might feel really guilty. Eren would probably hate you if he found out."

"We'll keep it just between us if you want," Jean reassured him. "And I'm gonna be so gentle when the time comes. Heck, don't stop talking to me when we finally do it. Tell me exactly what to do and exactly what's okay. I'm gonna be real good to you."

Armin stared up at him gratefully then, wondering how he'd been lucky enough to find someone as caring as Jean.

Truth was, when they'd first started seeing eachother, Armin had expected him to be a lot more tactless and abrupt. Jean could really be a gentleman when he wanted to be, a side of him he seemed to keep hidden from almost everyone except Armin.

"Um," Armin began, shyly nestling his head against Jean's chest to hide his embarrassment at the slightly awkward situation.

A hand found its way through the soft blonde strands, gently tickling the top of his head. "What's up?"

"Don't laugh, but..." Armin clutched at a fistful of Jean's shirt. "I don't get how it'll fit inside me. Like, I look at how small my body is compared to yours, and... I just don't know what to expect."

"I promise you it will," Jean assured him. "A lot of guys do it. 'Long as I stretch you out enough first and we're slicked up enough, you'll be fine. I'll hold your hand, angel."

A sudden pleasant warmth swept over Armin. It was something about Jean's nature - dominating and aggressive when he wanted to be, but also so sweet and caring, just like now. It _turned him on_.

Jean could sense this, and decided to add to it.

"When the time comes," he had began, "I'll carry you to our room and lay you down on the bed, and take care of you. I'll make you so happy. I'll love you so good that you'll be crying all over me."

"Oh, god," Armin whispered.

Jean glanced down and chuckled. "Looks like someone's getting a little excited," he noted, referring to the erection between the blonde's legs that was growing more and more noticeable through his clothes.

"Ngh," Armin whined, little bolts of excitement running through every fibre of his being. He began to straddle Jean's thigh, rubbing his crotch against the firm flesh until he was gasping within the man's hold.

Jean held him tight, hands on his hips, gently rocking him backwards and forwards against his upper leg until the smaller was on the brink of orgasm.

"Jean!" he moaned.

"What, baby?"

"I need sex!"

"Tomorrow," Jean promised, grinning.

"Now," Armin panted. "Or atleast tomorrow morning... please!"

"Tomorrow evening." He continued to push the boy against him until he was spewing nonsensical vowel sounds and shaking with pleasure.

"I-I'm not waiting u-until then!" Armin whimpered, just a couple of seconds before his climax washed over him. And then he was wailing, squeezing his thighs around Jean just as the brunet loved, tugging on the spiky hair and then leaning forward to groan quietly against the shoulder in front of him.

Neither of them knew what the heck to say after that.

It was very quiet for atleast five minutes, Armin still sat comfortably on Jean's leg, supporting his weight against him. He eventually let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Jean," he breathed.

"Yeah?"

"You... don't have to do it tomorrow," Armin told him, still slightly breathless. "Surprise me, if you want. I'm ready whenever."

Jean chuckled and cuddled him close, enjoying the way the boy still trembled beneath his touch. "Alright," he'd answered. "I'll surprise you. I'll do it when I feel the time is right."

Armin looked up at him and grinned. "At the moment, it feels like every time is right."

* * *

Jean wasn’t the best at surprising people.

This became clear when he asked if Armin was prepared, only to receive the answer that he'd already prepared himself a little earlier on because he knew what was going to happen and when.

This hadn't put him off, though - rather, it had perhaps motivated him a little more knowing Armin was completely okay with this.

And even after that night, he still couldn't believe it. He was so taken aback by the fact that Armin had placed so much trust in him, to put himself in such a vulnerable position, to give his body to Jean entirely.

 _This was worth the wait_ , Jean thought as he held the boy close. He was so proud that out of everyone inside these fucking walls, _he_ had been the one to take the virginity of someone as angelic as Armin.


	39. Let's Get These Teen Hearts Beating Faster!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These kinds of nights are frequent between them. Nobody else has to know - Armin knows he needs this, but he also knows that the world within the walls can be just as cruel as the world outside it.
> 
> Nevertheless, his heart races for Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was listening to Panic! at the Disco while writing this and somehow got inspired.

Armin is insecure.

It's something everyone seems to notice, something he's always tried his best to hide. But it's often futile, especially when he does his best to keep quiet as he cries himself to sleep, only to feel a tap on the shoulder and hear a voice asking if he's alright.

It's embarrassing, and sometimes he even snaps at them, angry with himself for being what he considers a loser. And then he'll apologise, feeling guilty for being rude to someone who obviously cares about him.

Mikasa is one of these people. And Eren. And Marco, and Connie, and Jean, _oh_ , especially Jean. They've grown kind of close over the past few weeks, and Armin's still smitten with Jean's obvious good looks, confused as to why Mikasa would turn down someone so attractive. Armin isn't shallow in the least, but when someone's hot, he knows it.

But when he's stressed over having failed to accomplish what the others have - when he feels pathetic and tiny and he's sobbing, wishing he'd died the day Wall Maria was breached - he looks up and sees Jean looming over him, a caring smile cast across his face, his amber eyes gleaming. And when the hand stretches out to pull him upwards, or wash his back while he's in the shower, or take a weight off his shoulders... he just _has_ to oblige.

Ever since Jean introduced himself - ever since he'd been head butted by Shadis after admitting that he wanted a comfortable life in the interior - Armin had taken a liking to him. Jean Kirschtein was honest, almost brutally so, and _oh gosh_ was he a good guy deep in his heart. He wasn't the sort of person most people would associate with Armin, but he seemed to feel a strong urge to protect this shota who seemed out of place amongst them, to attempt to hold him close and relax him when he's stressed.

Just like everyone else, Jean can see that Armin's insecure. And he doesn't want him to be. But he doesn't know what to do: helping him will only make him feel less capable, but seeing the little boy suffer as he puts his heart and soul into his work is too painful for him to bear.

The truth is, Jean loves Armin.

He's only known him for a few weeks. When he'd first seen him, he'd noted that he'd been with that annoying Yeager boy, the suicidal bastard who wouldn't stop talking and still seemed to be doing great despite the fact that he was a total moron. And seeing the tiny angelic blonde boy with that Yeagerbombastic guy or whatever his name was had put him off.

But then he'd heard Armin crying.

He'd noticed that he was the quiet one, the one who only spoke when spoken to, the shy, polite, but very kind and wonderful one who was sweet towards everyone he met.

And after Jean had realised what a good natured person Armin Arlert was, he just _had_ to grow close to him.

Jean knew that the pair of them had nothing in common - Armin was a very nice, soft-spoken, sweet and beautiful boy, the bestest friend you could ever have and so adorable he seemed unreal. Jean was brash and hostile, eager to fight anyone who got in his way.

Anyone except Armin.

Jean loved Armin.

* * *

The day has been tolling and torturous for every single one of the trainees, but Jean Kirschtein knows that the person it's taken the biggest toll on is Armin. He's tempted to wander over, to just climb into bed with him and cuddle the tiny young man until he sighs happily and falls asleep, but it's probably not even allowed. It's just so irresistible. Armin's cute, there's no doubt about that.

It bothers him that Armin's insecure. Does he not realise how fucking _amazing_ he is? Why do smart people understand everything except their own worth? Why won't Armin love himself? _How can I make him happy?_

Armin's crying so quietly that Jean can barely hear, but it's enough to draw him over to him, to hold him and tell him everything's okay.

And when he realises that what he really needs is physical contact and a hand to hold, Jean wanders over and holds him close until he stops sobbing. He whispers to him, tells him that he's an amazing young man, that he needs him to be happy.

It's almost pitch black and Jean isn't worried about people seeing them so close together, but he knows Armin will be self conscious about how easy it is for tears to fall down his sweet face.

"I just hate the fact that I'm letting everyone else down," Armin whispers against Jean's chest. The contact between them was purely platonic at this point - Armin knew it was slightly uncommon for male friends to snuggle up together like this, but their gender made no difference to him. He and his best friend Eren often used to fall asleep against eachother when they were younger, and it's something he's used to now.

"You didn't let anyone down," Jean whispers back, pressing a hand against the boy's head. "You passed. You did fine. You did _better_ than fine."

Armin doesn't know how to respond. It's so comfortable and relaxing being held by Jean like this, so much so that he feels like he could use this kind of physical contact every day.

He wants to kiss him, thank him for being so sweet towards him, for always being there despite coming across as a slight asshole to everyone else. But Armin's afraid, because he's 99% sure Jean's not into boys. It'd be weird if he made a move, right? Jean would be disgusted, wouldn't he? And then he'd never talk to him again and-

"You're very beautiful, Armin."

Silence.

Wait, _what?_

"Me?" Armin gasps, lifting his head to peer up at Jean in the dark.

"Yeah," he replies, pressing his face against Armin's bare shoulder. "I noticed it the first time I saw you, that time Shadis made fun of your name and you had to explain that it was your grandfather who chose it... I thought of how sweet you looked among us."

"I'm not beautiful!" Armin insists, genuinely shocked. "I'm a loser! I'm always a burden and I've always had different views from everyone else and that's why people used to beat me up. Stop flattering me, please."

Jean sniffs slightly. "I'm not lying," he says firmly, and Armin actually sobs in response.

"Thank you so much, Jean. But I don't believe you."

"I'll make you believe me," Jean tells him caringly.

"Isn't this taboo, though?" Armin whispers.

"Isn't what taboo?"

"This, I mean, um... how we're being now. I haven't really seen any of the other guys here being this close and snuggling up together and things like that. I mean, I love it, don't get me wrong! But is it allowed?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I'm not sure," Armin admits.

"Franz doesn't have to run twice the distance as everyone else each day because he's dating Hannah, does he? Why would this be different?"

Armin suddenly freezes. He feels twinges of anxiety soaring through him.

"I'm scared people won't want us to be this close because we're both male."

"Anyone who has a problem with it," Jean begins, "can go fuck themselves."

His sudden use of a curse surprises the blonde, but he smiles gladly in agreement.

"So this is coming out of the blue, but you know what homophobia is, right?"

Armin nods eagerly. "Yeah. I know all about that stuff."

"I don't want to imply that we're dating because I know you probably wouldn't want to," Jean whispers gently. "But if we were to date, and if people were to discriminate against us because we're both boys, that'd be their problem. Not ours."

"I agree," Armin says.

He cuddles himself closer against Jean then, wishing he had the courage to tell him how much he adored him.

Jean is one of the only people Armin doesn't feel insecure around.

He's confident around Mikasa and Eren because they're his best friends and they've all been close for years.

But it took him less than four weeks to obtain that same connection with Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry guys, I haven't left. I'm just on holiday at the moment and it's not easy to write cute Jearmin fics when I'm drunk for twelve hours of the day. But I'll update as much as I can.


	40. Victory

Jean winces every time Armin raises his hand and digs his teeth into his own flesh. Ever since he'd first discovered Eren's titan-shifting ability and learned that he had to physically draw his own blood in order to unleash it, he'd actually felt pretty sorry for the guy. And now, here was Armin, sobbing at the pain of having to tear into his own flesh.

"Like Mikasa said, you can't force it," Jean tells him, handing him a bandage and a clean tissue to mop up the blood that trails down his arm. "Don't put yourself through this pain, angel."

"I... have to!" Armin pants, a strain in his voice. "If Eren can do it, so can I!"

"You need a _goal_ ," Jean reminds him, stepping back the next time he cuts into himself just in case he manages it this time.

"My goal is to be like Eren! I want to do the things he can do. I want to actually be useful now that I know the commander died in my place..."

Jean shakes his head and sighs, feeling sorry for him. He leans down and kisses the top of Armin's head, saying, "I mean a more specific goal. That's too generic. Nobody can be exactly the same as anyone else."

"I don't mean _exactly_ like Eren," the blonde says, wiping the bitter and salty crimson fluid from the side of his mouth. "I just want to be able to do it on command like he can, so that I can make use of it in battle like him."

Jean nods slowly, but still gives a highly sympathetic gaze when the boy harms himself again.

After much pain, frustration, tear-shedding and blood loss, Armin collapses onto the floor on his knees, staring at the ground and hyperventilating.

Jean bends down and rubs his back. "Here," he offers, wiping down the blood. "Don't keep doing this. You're putting too much strain on yourself."

Armin gives him a slightly defiant look, but Jean knows better than to take it to heart. He's just so frustrated.

"I love you," Jean says quietly. It hurts to see him in such a state, and it hurts to see him having to physically damage his own body in order to use this power that has been granted to him.

* * *

It's been two long, painful weeks. Armin's used to the taste of blood now, but he kind of wishes he didn't have to keep hurting himself so terribly. His injuries heal almost instantly, faint steam arising from the slightest wound on his body, but it makes no difference to the pain. It's still virtually unbearable.

"I'll do it tomorrow."

"No," Jean says firmly, furrowing his brows the way he usually does.

"What else can I do?"

"Please take a break," Jean tells him, tugging the blanket over himself and pulling on the blonde's arm to peer at the - miraculously - unscathed flesh on the side of his hand. "Don't do it tomorrow. Don't hurt yourself."

"I have a different feeling about tomorrow. I think I'll finally be able to do it."

"Why are you so insistent on suffering?" Jean asks, as if Armin has offended him somehow.

"I don't want to suffer. I just want to do what needs to be done."

Jean's too tired to argue, and even if he wasn't, snapping at or showing contempt towards his lover wasn't something he strived to do.

"Promise me that if you can't do it tomorrow, you'll stop trying for a while. I can't stand seeing you hurt yourself like that, Armin. I know I don't have to watch, but I want to be there for you, baby. And seeing you in pain is just... horrible."

Armin sighs a small, faintly happy sigh. "Jean," he says lovingly, as if he's suddenly woken up from a happy dream.

"Mm?" Jean responds, already having forgotten about the slightly morbid topic they were previously disagreeing on.

"Thank you so much for always caring about me."

* * *

He's stammering, shivering and groaning in pain.

And still, he perseveres.

"J-just once more," the boy says weakly, clearly suffering. "I think I have it this time. I s-spoke to E-Eren and he said you have to forget about everything else and that once you grasp it, it gets easier."

Jean's reluctant. He's been with him every step of the way - through all of Hange's either extremely unusual or extremely uninteresting experiments, through every futile attempt to transform, through every night he'd laid awake wondering if he'd been worth saving over Erwin after all.

And then it happens.

There's a loud _bang_ , presumably a sonic boom considering the inhuman speed at which the changes take place. And then there's lightning, but golden and green, a huge bolt of power from seemingly nowhere.

Armin doesn't know how he does it. He's heard his best friend describe it as being comparable to the way one can't explain how they move their own arm; it's easy when you can do it, but nigh impossible when you can't.

It's like passing out for a few seconds and then waking up inside a hot, damp cavity.

He gasps in surprise. It's dark. His upper cheeks and hands are melded with the titan's insides, rendering him virtually unable to move his own body.

But somehow he can _see_ and _hear_. Not through his own ears and eyes, but his brain is processing information transmitted to it through other ones, ones much larger and more primal than his own big blue eyes.

"Armin!" calls a surprised voice. "Can you hear me?!"

He can hear his lover, but how does he respond?! He tries to speak, but nothing intelligible comes from his throat. He looks down and sees through the colossus titan's eyes - he can see for miles at sixty metres high - but his eyes land on Jean, who appears so petrified and tiny beneath him.

"Armin?" he repeats nervously. "Armin, please tell me you can control this!"

Feeling a little more courageous, Armin nods his head, only to find that the titan he's inside nods its head also.

Jean grins excitedly, relieved that Armin's titan form isn't as batshit crazy as Eren's had been during the battle of Trost District. "You are so huge!" the man yells, in complete awe. "I can't believe you finally did it!"

 _Neither can I_ , the blonde thinks to himself.

He peers down and slowly, very slowly, backs away from Jean. It's not too easy to see what he's doing as a result of the steam emitted from his transformation, but he backs up enough to be able to kneel down carefully and safely, the entire large field shuddering beneath the weight of the monster.

He extends a large, red hand towards Jean, who initially quivers with fear. He knows it's Armin and that he's in great control of the enormous vessel, but it takes him a few minutes to pluck up the courage and climb onto the index finger... which is bigger than his whole body.

The enormous limb raises itself towards the skinless face, and Armin peers through the ferocious eyes, eyeing Jean up and down. _I haven't hurt him, have I? Is he okay? How can I make him less scared of me?_

"Armin," Jean says breathlessly, leaning up towards the face. Its breath is almost hot enough to burn his clothes. "Armin, you recognise me, don't you?"

 _Nod_.

"Good," Jean says, relieved. "You know I'm Jean, yeah? And... and you know that I love you?"

Armin nods more vigorously, and then instantly regrets it when the impact tosses Jean around in the palm of his hand.

He wants to try and speak, but he doesn't know _how_.

"Do you want me to get you out of there?" Jean asks, either because he's terrified of being close to something so huge or because he's nervous about the toll it might be taking on Armin.

 _Nod_.

"Okay," Jean responds, and projects himself towards the nape, wondering whether or not Armin can feel the anchors of his manoeuvre gear.

He draws his blade and carefully - _very, very carefully_ \- slices open the flesh. He's anxious about hurting the delicate human inside and it takes him three strikes just to cut deep enough to be able to pull him out.

He grabs his waist and tugs on him, pulling until the pink tendons break with a sickening _squelch_ and he's holding the boy's limp body. He's so warm, almost too warm for Jean to hold safely.

With the boy in his arms, he clambers down the now steaming and lifeless titan corpse and kneels besides him on the grass.

"Baby?" Jean whispers, noting the painful-looking marks on the blonde's cheeks. "Baby, are you alright?"

Armin gives a tired-sounding groan as he opens his eyes and realises that he's himself again.

"Yeah, I think so," he tells him, still sweating from the heat that surrounded him inside the titan. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Jean. It's so cramped inside there. And warm and wet. It's _horrible_."

Jean kisses him, smoothing down his hair lovingly. "Bless you," he says. "I'm so proud of you, angel."

"I can't believe I actually did it..."

"But you did," Jean grins. "And you did a damn good job of it, as well."

As much as Armin would give anything to bring the commander back, he's proud that he's now in the possession of something so vital to their success.


	41. Mutual Benefit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tipsy Armin is Jean's favourite Armin.

Armin's good at initiating things when he's drunk.

He's a good kisser anyway, but when his inhibitions are lost, Jean can't get enough of him. Oh _boy_ does he taste amazing, and oh _god_ does he get adventurous.

Maybe it's because he currently lacks the coordination to do anything else, or maybe it's because he's sleepy, but he hasn't stopped making out with Jean for ten minutes. And it doesn't look as if he's planning on letting up any time soon.

Jean has to pull away just so he can take a deep breath.

He sucks in a mouthful of air and breathes, "Holy _fuck_ , Armin." The blonde just giggles.

"My tongue has gone numb," Armin admits. "And... my face and neck is so wet, and so is yours, and all I can taste is you."

Jean starts grinning at him. "You taste like vanilla. Like ice cream. You just taste so _sweet_."

Before either of them can speak, Armin grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls Jean towards his face again, locking his lips with his and pushing his soft wet tongue into the brunet's hot mouth. Armin's submissive by nature, but he's doing a pretty good fucking job at dominating this kiss, lightly chewing and sucking on Jean's lips as if they're the best things he's ever tasted.

A moan arises from Jean's throat, which only encourages Armin to hold him tighter and kiss him deeper, sucking and gently nibbling him wetly how he loves. He never wants Armin's mouth to draw away from his.

Unable to hold his breath for any longer, but not wanting to interrupt the most perfect kiss they've ever had, Armin exhales through his nose. The warm air tickles the skin on Jean's face and only makes him all the more aroused.

The thin young man scoots a little closer and lowers his hand, gently rubbing the man's length through his trousers. He hears Jean gasp sharply but slowly as he does, not expecting the sudden touch.

He can feel him through the whitish-grey fabric: long, firm, warm and yet soothingly fleshy somehow. Nobody would ever guess that the huge organ would be able to fit inside someone small like Armin, but he seemed to manage it pretty well.

Armin stops kissing just for a moment, checking that Jean's okay with what he's about to do. There's never been a time when he hasn't been okay with anything Armin has done, but he's too considerate not to check.

When Jean chuckles sweetly at him and gently grabs him by his long flaxen hair to look him in the face, Armin knows he needs this. Badly.

They lock lips again as Armin unbuttons the man's clothing, sliding down the garments until his erection springs from beneath his trousers. The blonde glances down and notes the sore pink stripes on Jean's thighs, his skin having been worn down from the manoeuvre gear. He wishes he could make them better for him.

But that's not necessary when he wraps his small hand around the man's thick length, his tiny thumb gliding over the tip to observe the clear fluid that sticks to his skin. His fingers are so small that they barely reach all the way around. Jean moans into the kiss as Armin touches him, thrusting towards him ever so slightly in invitation.

Armin distracts him a little by gently nibbling on Jean's lip while he begins to pump his hand along his huge erection. He'll never get used to how good it feels against his skin - so warm and smooth and firm, so thick, so _big_.

When he pulls back his foreskin and observes the moist tip, Jean groans into Armin's mouth and pulls on his soft fair hair, begging for stimulation. Armin's too nice to deny him, as fun as the idea sounds. So instead he starts to furiously jerk his hand against him, not quite expecting the litany of moans that spill from Jean's mouth and vibrate against Armin's.

They have to break the kiss just so Jean can move back a little and stare into Armin's big ocean eyes while he pleasures him. Armin doesn't stop looking at him, a slightly devious, slightly proud and extremely cute expression on the boy's feminine face. He looks like he's having the time of his life making Jean feel so wonderful.

* * *

"Armin," Jean suddenly gasps, grabbing the boy's wrist. "Fuck, angel, you've gotta stop. I'm gonna cum if you don't stop."

Armin's eyes widen in anxiety. "Sorry!" he apologises timidly, raising his hand and loving the way the sticky fluid remains on his skin in a thin, slippery layer.

Jean sighs deeply, laying back and tugging Armin down with him until he's facing his still solid erection. The blonde knows what else Jean wants, but despite his increase in confidence that stems from the cider he drank earlier, he's too afraid to initiate it. _Will he mind if I ask him what he wants, or will he expect me to just do it? What if he wants to have sex with me instead? There's no way I can flat-out ask, but I need to know what he wants me to do_.

"Ah... Jean?" Armin says shyly, bravely reaching out to stroke a finger along the wet head.

"Yeah?" Jean responds breathlessly, affectionately stroking and caressing the thick golden hair.

"You want me to suck it, don't you?"

Jean grins at him. "I do, yes," he says. "I want to cum in your mouth. If that's okay with you. That's why I stopped you just now."

"Mmm," Armin sighs sweetly. He sits upright to kneel next to the man's hips, leaning forwards slightly. His heart pounds as he looks down at the huge, thick meat before him.

"But I definitely won't force you, baby," Jean assures him. "You don't have to."

"I've done it before, though," Armin reminds him. "And I remember you said I was really good. I don't know... I'm still scared of taking you in my mouth, for some reason. You're just _so big_."

Jean lovingly tugs on Armin's hair to make him look him in the face. "Angel, I'm never going to pressure you into doing anything. If you do it, it'll be because you want to, not because I'm forcing you."

Armin blinks at him, his long lashes fluttering adorably.

"I want to," he says. He's swallowed before and he didn't like the taste, but he knows he can do it again if it'll please the man he loves more than anything.

He inhales deeply before opening his mouth and leaning forwards, instantly recognising the slightly salty taste of warm flesh against his tongue. He pushes his head down until he feels his cock tickling his gag reflex, which is when he heaves slightly and raises his head, gasping.

"Don't push yourself too far," Jean whispers, stroking Armin's chin before lifting it to gaze at his face. "Don't make yourself cough. Just relax and take what you can. I'm not going to let you come to harm."

Armin smiles and nods gratefully. He instantly gets back to work, wrapping his lips around the firm head and lowering himself until it just lightly hits the back of his throat. His eyes glisten and he almost gags, but he soon raises his head again and then licks all around the tip, which forces a sharp hiss of pleasure from Jean.

Hearing this, the blonde glances up and makes eye contact, pleased with his efforts. They don't break their mutual gaze when he takes him into his mouth once again, using his small and skilful hand to pump along the remainder of him that he can't fit in his throat.

As soon as he picks up the pace and begins to stare up seductively at Jean, the brunet starts panting and moaning relentlessly.

" _Armin,_ " he grunts, pulling almost a little _too_ hard on the flaxen hair. "Armin, you fucking angel."

A quiet noise of approval escapes from Armin's throat, which Jean smiles at. He doesn't stop, actually quite certain at this point that he's doing a pretty good job, if Jean's reactions are anything to go by.

"Holy..." Jean begins, staring down at Armin in awe. _Who knew this little angel would be so good at this kind of stuff? Why is the sweetest, kindest and most genuine boy in the 104th amazing at giving head?_

The man feels heat knotting within him, and suddenly jerks upwards slightly, which makes Armin cough. "S-sorry!" the brunet says, his thighs trembling. "I'm so close, baby, promise me you won't stop until I'm filling your mouth."

Armin nods happily, continuing to suck and spit against his cock. Occasionally the friction gets a little too much against his tongue and he'll resort to giving the head little kitten licks, but if it's Armin, anything's good enough for Jean.

"Armin!" Jean cries, burying his fingers in the boy's soft hair as he comes hard in his mouth. Armin whines in surprise. He winces at the bitter and salty fluid that fills the cavity of his mouth but refuses to spit it out. There's too much for him to swallow in one go, so it takes a few seconds for him to clear his mouth, but when he does he proudly shows Jean his efforts.

The brunet opens his eyes and peers into the boy's open mouth. "Good boy," he praises him, smiling. "Such a good boy for me."

Armin lets out a breath he couldn't remember holding and falls back against Jean, into his arms. He cuddles the boy close, loving the feel of his warm, fragile body against his. "Angel," Jean murmurs against his hair, stroking over every inch of Armin. "My angel. My beautiful boy."

His loving words send goosebumps along Armin's skin. He whines softly, an all too familiar aching sensation in his crotch as he rubs against Jean in the hopes of creating some friction.

"You just have to ask," Jean giggles, placing a firm hand against the smaller's stomach to keep him still. "I'll touch you if you want. It's only fair after the amazing things you just did to me."

"Please," Armin pleads.

"Certainly."

Armin squeals with excitement when Jean tugs down his trousers and starts to palm at him through his underwear. There's hardly any teasing at all - before long, he's rubbing and stroking along his length, gently tickling and pressing against the sensitive head until Armin's quivering with pleasure.

"How's that?" Jean asks, looking down into the big blue eyes while he continues to touch him.

"It's so nice, Jean," Armin tells him, panting. "Do you promise me you won't stop until I cum?"

"Sure thing," Jean tells him, leaning forwards to plant a small kiss on Armin's forehead.

Thing is, he feels like he's close already - he doesn't want to finish yet, dammit! He's loving it too much to tell Jean to stop or slow down though, which is why he cries out in ecstasy and paints his own stomach white much sooner than either had been expecting.

And Jean doesn't stop.

He smirks down at him, looking at the semen on his abdomen as if it's a gift from the gods. "Am I really that good?" he asks amusedly, hoping he can please Armin for just a little longer until he inevitably asks him to stop when he can't bear any more stimulation.

"Yes!" Armin sobs, suddenly in awe at how hot Jean looks from where he's laying. "I love you, Jean!"

"Baby," Jean groans, his heart melting at how sweet Armin looks beneath him, his eyes fluttering closed whenever he grazes over a sensitive area. "Baby, I fucking love you. I want to make you so happy. You _angel_."

Armin tries to reply, but his words are muffled by a moan when Jean starts to pump his hand along his length again, this time gently rubbing and stroking his testicles.

"Jeaaaan," he whines. "That feels so good, Jean..."

"You earned it," Jean whispers against his lips before kissing him passionately again while he touches him so _wonderfully_. The contact between their lips never seems to end, just like before when Armin had been so persistent and needy in his desires, grabbing onto Jean and tugging him deeper into his mouth.

Neither is sober, and neither is fully awake, either - their unconsciousness is slowly slipping over them as Armin sobs with pleasure and closes his eyes, but one thing is true for the both of them:

The thought of leaving on their mission tomorrow and potentially never returning to one another's arms is one they'd rather avoid.


	42. Envy

Jean wishes he'd known Armin as a child.

It's one of the reasons he dislikes Eren. Most of it is jealousy. Sure, he disagrees with almost everything Eren says and does - but the jealously is there, and it's there to stay. He's jealous that Eren grew up with Armin, that the two share almost everything with eachother. It's not like he doesn't have an extremely close bond with Armin, but he's bitter that he didn't share his childhood with him in the way that Eren did.

What if _he_ had been the one that he'd mused about the outside world with? What if _he'd_ been the one Armin always turned to in times of need, when he'd been cornered by those nasty, pathetic bullies, when he'd been too timid to put his foot down and say "no"?

He hates the fact that Yeagerboy shares a bond with Armin that Jean will never be able to replicate. Their relationship is virtually perfect, but nothing can come close to the kind of bond Eren and Armin have. In fact, they'd be the closest pair out of every single one of the trainees if it wasn't for Mikasa's overbearing motherly instincts.

* * *

"Armin," Jean says sadly. _Why_ is this getting to him? Why does he have to be so jealous all the time?

"Hmm?" the blonde replies, not looking up from his gear. Jean doesn't know why he's still trying to fix it. It's far too worn beyond use now, but Armin tends to worry about using too many resources.

"Do you prefer Eren over me? I don't mean romantically."

The hands stop tweaking the buckles and patching up the worn leather.

"Why would I prefer Eren over you?"

"Because you grew up together. I heard you guys first met when you were about five or something like that. I don't know the exact age. And you always used to play together and you knew eachother's families well and... what I'm trying to say is, I'm bitter because Eren has something I don't."

Armin turns around, dark brows lowered in a concerned and slightly upset expression.

"What does he have that you don't?"

"A strong bond with you."

"We have the exact same," Armin insists, completely taken aback by Jean's sudden gloom. "Jean, if I could show you how much I loved you on a physical level, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. I don't know how to prove it to you, but you're my entire world, and I guess I'm also kinda bitter in the sense that I have no idea how to resolve this conflict you're dealing with."

"I don't know how to resolve it either. I'm speaking to you because you're the least ignorant person I know and you're not the type to tell me to just not worry."

"I know," Armin says, apparently giving up on trying to mend the busted gear. "I would never just sit there and say "don't worry" or "it's okay, forget about it" when someone's unhappy. People like that... they have good intentions, but their actions are ignorant. Nobody can just ignore something that's eating at them badly."

"So what do I do?" Jean asks. He hates the fact that he hates Eren. He's everything Jean would never strive to be, and yet he's so pissed off that he isn't him.

"You don't need to do anything," Armin tells him calmly, always the rational, sensible and collected one. "I'm not going to go away, Jean. I'm here to stay. I'm never leaving you, okay?"

Jean suddenly grabs his waist from behind, making Armin gasp. "Jean!" he wheezes, desperately tugging him off him. "You're stronger than you think you are! You'll break my ribs."

"Sorry, baby," Jean apologises, loosening his grip to gently hug the boy from behind. "I just... really love you, you know? I'm mad that Eren always protected you as a child instead of me. I want to be the one to hold you and make you feel loved... not that suicidal bastard who doesn't know his ass from his face."

Armin snorts with laughter. "It's not that I'm okay with you insulting my best friend, but that's a humorous way to put it."

Jean sniffs, either with relief or solemnity.

"What?" Armin asks. For once, he's unable to read Jean's feelings.

"Armin... look, I'm mostly doing this to reassure myself that you love me, but... can we have sex? Please?"

Armin turns around and cocks an eyebrow. The idea isn't out of the question, but he's just come back from training, and the thought of anything the least bit strenuous is slightly unappealing.

"You don't have to put any effort in," Jean tells him. "And... you don't have to do it, angel. But I've just been feeling like shit recently, and I think being so close to you on a physical level will help me."

"Jean, love and sex are two different things. Sure, they usually go hand-in-hand, but I don't see how it'll help you prove anything to yourself. I already love you. I don't know how else to tell you."

"Please, angel. I need to be close to you. I need to hold you and take care of you and make you happy."

Armin smiles at him. "Not a bad idea as long as I can just lie there and do nothing."

"Of course," Jean says, kissing him sweetly. "You just relax, okay? I need to, um... I have to know that I can pleasure you, Armin. I have to know that you need me more than Yeager."

* * *

His eyes are closed. He's silent, although sometimes a quiet mewl or audible breath can be heard. He's the perfect picture of beauty and contentment, looking so unbelievably cute as he lays there, a gentle smile resting on his face. Jean knows better than to try and interrupt it by being rough, so he uses every ounce of self control he can muster to keep a gentle, soft rhythm.

It's tempting to talk. It's tempting to ask Armin how he's feeling, how much he likes it, to tell him how wonderful he feels around him, tell him how attractive and angelic he looks. But it would bring him out of this calm, sweet state, and that would be a shame.

"Nnh!" Armin suddenly groans, tilting his head back and furrowing his brows, his fingers locking tighter around Jean's.

"You alright?" Jean asks softly, looking intently into the blonde's face. Armin nods, smiling.

"Jean," he murmurs sleepily.

"Mmm?"

"Please don't take offence to this, but I can't tell whether or not you're all the way in... are you?"

"I'm not," Jean tells him, thrusting a bit deeper until he bottoms out, which causes Armin to wail in response. "Crap, sorry!" Jean says hurriedly. "Did that hurt?"

"No!" Armin giggles, smiling happily. "No, it felt really nice!"

"Good," Jean pants, continuing the gentle yet pleasurable pace. He loves to see Armin's body beneath his, so light and small and fragile in comparison to his own, a look of delight on his face. It truly is heaven seeing him so happy.

Jean leans forward and whispers in his ear, "You close?"

Armin shakes his head.

"Want me to keep going?"

"Yes please."

"That's my good boy," Jean coos.

They love this kind of sex. Armin loves when he's laid down beneath Jean with his legs over the brunet's shoulders, bent backwards slightly from the way Jean leans over him, his warm breath tickling his skin. Jean loves the way Armin is pushed down with every thrust, no matter how gentle. He loves the way the little blonde is so submissive and innocent and eager to please his dominant partner.

_He needs this more than he needs Yeager._

_He needs **me** more than he needs Yeager_.

_He needs-_

His thoughts are cut off when Armin suddenly gives a sharp gasp. He starts to whine and shiver, almost sobbing, his voice becoming more and more desperate and needy every time Jean pushes into him. The sounds become one string of many, each thrust pushing deeper and harder and eliciting a desperate " _annh!_ " from Armin's throat.

"Jeeean!" he whines. It's so pleasurable that it's almost painful, a beautiful ache that resonates throughout his entire body in waves each time his prostate is hit. "Jean, it f-feels amazing!"

 _He's actually crying_ , Jean realises, noting the tears that make the boy's blue fawn-like eyes sparkle. _Fucking hell. I don't think I've ever made him feel this good before_.

"Jean, I'm gonna cum!" Armin cries. "Jean! Oh my god _Jean_ -"

He inhales sharply and shudders, his cock leaking semen onto his thighs and stomach, his muscles contracting intensely and sending unbearable ecstasy throughout his being.

Jean comes soon after, blowing his load inside the boy before panting and falling on top of him. Armin coughs when he does, not expecting the sudden weight of his lover against his chest.

"Hahh," Armin exhales, still shaking.

"Holy shit," Jean laughs. "The look on your face just now was unbelievable."

The blonde giggles in response.

"Mmm," Armin says dreamily, after a brief pause. "Jean."

"I'm here," Jean whispers, stroking his thumb along his cheek. "I'm here, baby. I love you. I'm here."

"I love you," Armin whispers back. "Thank you so much for never leaving me."

"I'll never leave," Jean tells him. "I'm never leaving, angel. You've got me. I need you, and you need me. You've always got me, forever."


	43. Diary Entries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd try something slightly new.

* * *

I could spend all day talking about the things I love about Jean Kirschtein.

I could write a book. No, two books, maybe three. Big, thick books listing how much I love him, how much I care for him, how amazing he makes me feel.

This small diary isn't big enough to list it all.

I think I love his hands the most. They're bigger than mine, expectedly so considering he has a larger bone structure than me, just like pretty much every other male I trained with. But for a soldier, they're surprisingly soft and gentle and delicate, lacking the rough texture and all-over callouses that I've felt on the hands of some of the others. They never hurt, whether he's holding my hand, holding me close during a heated and intimate moment between us, washing my hair for me in the shower, or pressing his palms against my cheeks while he kisses me.

I actually like the fact that his hands are bigger than mine. We've compared them in size, and my fingers hardly reach 2/3 of the way up his. I used to wish I wasn't so small, but ever since Jean told me how cute and tiny my hands were, I've felt less insecure.

Even our eyes are completely different. I absolutely _love_ Jean's eyes and the way he looks at me - golden brown, sharp, intimidating and handsome. I love the way he stares into my face while he makes love to me, the way his eyes frown in concentration while his mouth smiles gently at me, a slightly rugged and brash exterior softened by a warm and sweet interior.

And that _body_. Even before we went all the way, I've been admiring his physique for longer than we've been dating. I used to be jealous of the sharp and firm outlines on his stomach and chest, wishing my own torso was as masculine and defined as his, but he's always insisted that I look amazing. I still don't believe him. _He_ looks amazing. He literally has the perfect body and I can't get over it.

Oh, and his _voice_... I can't forget Jean's voice. I don't mean the way he yells like an idiot while he's in a fight or on the battlefield or in the midst of some other kind of rash activity. I mean the way he speaks softly, the way he whispers, the way he hushes me gently if I start to cry out too loudly when he pushes in at the perfect angle. His voice is at its most soothing at night when we're laying together in the dark, when all that can be heard is the constant background noise of consciousness, of the pulsing in our heads, of every breath we take together. He talks to me gently, and the things he says to me make me want him to hold me forever. He'll lie next to me, asking me how I'm doing and if there's anything I need, and then he'll tell me he loves me and he'll kiss me, muttering sweet nothings into my ear until I fall asleep.

But then sometimes he sounds different when we have sex. He groans and hisses and gasps when he goes really rough and deep, my own high feminine whines no match for his deep primitive grunts. But I like it, I really do - not as much as when he's gently and sweetly pushing into me, whispering to me and kissing me, but I like it all the same. I like to hear the masculine, animalistic side of him, the voice that only sees the light of day when he's inside me.

I just love Jean Kirschtein. _So much._ There's not a single one of his features that I haven't yet fallen in love with, and I can be certain that if I find some more, I'll fall in love with those too.

* * *

So I'm writing in this diary just so that I can come back and read it whenever I'm feeling stressed. A lot of the other soldiers do things like this. I don't mean like what happened to Ilse Langnar, I mean casual entries to keep track of what's going on around us. But for once I just want to write something that will make me happy.

So I'm not straight. I’m still not entirely sure what I am. I can’t exactly be gay, because I have been attracted to girls, but I have a _boy_ friend who I am _very_ much attracted to. His name is Armin Arlert. He joined the cadets at the same time as me and was always one of the weaker ones who fell behind in physical tasks. He didn't make the top ten like I did, but I don't care a thing about that. I'm in love with him.

We’re not all that open about our relationship. The two of us tend to worry that people will judge us because we’re both boys. Same-sex relationships don’t seem very common around here, but we don’t care. It’s love, and it’s beautiful.

You could say he's one of the more "human" soldiers. He's a sweet, kind and very genuine boy, someone who's obviously had a very good upbringing. I noticed his caring nature as soon as I'd first seen him, but honestly, that wasn't the only thing I noticed. I also realised he was _cute_.

I'm still puzzled to this day as to why I've never heard Eren or Mikasa call him cute, because he's seriously fucking adorable. He has big, round blue eyes, bright and sparkly, just like the warm smile he rarely has a chance to show the world nowadays. He has golden blonde hair, soft and long for a boy, which I love to play with and run my fingers through while we're laying in bed. It seems to relax him. And he's quite small and skinny - not as muscular as most of the other guys here, but beautiful all the same. He's not big and masculine and scary like some of the other soldiers. He's sweet and graceful and delicate. Feminine.

I'm pretty certain I wouldn't have been able to cope up to this point without him by my side. 

It's not just the fact that he's cute, because I'm not a shallow asshole. And it's certainly not just because of how good he feels around my dick. It's because he's a unique and loving kind of person, the type that's rare to find nowadays in this living hell. Our world is full to the brim with violence and agony, but when I turn to Armin, I feel indifferent to it all. I feel numb to the pain and yet I can still welcome his love, the way he wraps his arms around me and presses his face against my chest, the way he looks up at me with those big, baby-deer eyes.

I think I'm done now. I've had a decent rant about the good things in my life, and now it's time for me to go to sleep, if I get any at all. I have to go on a dangerous mission tomorrow and for some reason they're making me disguise myself as fucking Yeager. Seriously, screw my life.

Actually, wait, I take that back.

There's one good thing in my life, and that's enough for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know whether switching viewpoints is a good idea or not. I can’t tell if it hinders the flow of my writing, but I just really wanted to for this one. I love introspective, reflective fics.


	44. Rough

“Jean! Please, th-that’s too much!”

His sobs of ecstasy are futile. There is nothing he can do. And why would he want there to be?

His cries are broken, interrupted by the immense impact against him.

“ _Jeannn!_ ”

The taller gives a loud, drawn out sigh and loosens his grip, which results in Armin losing his balance and falling forwards.

“Hey,” Armin says, slightly vexed, face pressed against the soft blanket. “Why’d you stop?”

“Knackered,” Jean pants. He’s shining with sweat.

He groans. “Please, Jean...”

“Let me rest for a while.”

Armin’s still so dazed that it takes him a few seconds to process Jean’s words.

“Mmh. Fine.”

Armin lays back, golden hair spreading out gracefully across the soft sheets. Jean sits up and leans over him, hands pushed firmly against the blanket besides the boy’s shoulders to trap him beneath him.

The way those big blue eyes gaze up at him will never fail to make him melt.

He leans in closer and starts to press his still-solid erection against his lover’s tight hole.

Armin gives a small whine, not expecting it.

“Crap, sorry, did that hurt?”

“No,” Armin replies. “I just didn’t expect you to stick it in me again.”

“I know,” Jean sighs. “It’s just... I’m so tired, but when you’re laid down like this with your legs wrapped around my back, I can’t stop myself. I’m out of breath, soaked in sweat, and still, all I want to do is fuck you. So, so hard.”

A smile begins to dawn on the blonde’s face. “Well,” he grins, “I have no problems with that.”

Jean smiles back, his arousal growing impossible to ignore. “Good, angel. That’s my good boy.”

Armin tilts his head back, doing his best to relax when he feels the organ pushing into him. It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve done this - doesn’t matter how long it’s been since that one night when he lost his virginity - it still hurts sometimes, and it’s mostly down to Armin’s timid nature, which forces him to tense up beyond his control.

“Mh,” Armin says almost inaudibly when their hips finally press together. He’s shocked that something so large can fit inside him, and he’s often more shocked at how amazing it feels, even if it is a bit of a stretch.

Jean stares down at him, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. “Oh, baby,” he whispers, thrusting as deep into him as he can until Armin’s writhing and whining beneath him. Then he draws his hips back, loving the way his partner tightens around him so blissfully, loving the way he’s able to pull out almost all the way only to jam back into him _so hard_.

“Ahn!” Armin suddenly moans, and upon hearing it, Jean’s overcome with a strong kind of arousal, one that only urges him to drill into his lover harder.

“Fuck, baby, yes,” Jean gasps, grabbing Armin by the shoulders and ramming into him roughly. “Baby, keep making those beautiful sounds for daddy. Hold on, angel, let me turn you over, I want to make you feel so good.”

“W-wha-?”

Before he can say anything more, Jean’s picked him up and has flipped him onto his front, pressing him down and tugging his thighs to raise his hips. Armin can feel his heart pounding at the way Jean’s treating him so roughly. And he _loves_ it.

And the way he grabs Armin’s hips and pulls him back, impaling his tiny ass on his enormous cock-

“ _Ahhn! JEAN!_ ” Armin cries out, not expecting the intense pleasure that suddenly soars through him. He’ll never get used to the feeling of Jean pushing his cock in and out of his rectum. The friction between them is so unbelievable that all Armin can really do is sob weakly while the man pulls him back, then pushes him forwards, and then pulls him back onto his huge member again, penetrating him beautifully every single time.

“After all this time,” Jean says breathlessly, sweat dripping from him with every thrust, “you’re still so fucking tight, Armin.”

He can’t reply. He can’t think of anything to say, not like this. He doesn’t want to think. All he wants to do is lay here with his back arched towards his lover’s crotch, filled with complete bliss, complete ecstasy.

“How’s it feel?” Jean eventually pants, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his lover’s back.

“Ngh!” Armin moans.

Jean gives a chuckle of satisfaction. “Good, then, I take it?”

“Mm... _yes!_ ” Armin wails, his body limp and submissive within Jean’s hold.

“Clench that tight little hole around me,” Jean grunts, once again roughly pulling the boy onto his cock. Armin obeys without thought, eager to do anything if it’ll mean pleasing his lover.

“Yes, good boy,” Jean moans, his grip tightening on Armin’s waist. “God, I’m gonna cum so hard and so deep inside you, angel.”

And then he does just that, slamming Armin’s body against him as he fills his cavity with his hot semen, sighing in ecstasy and loving the way the little blonde whimpers at the feeling of his seed inside him. Jean takes a deep breath and slowly pulls out of him, watching as a string of semen remains attached to the head of his cock from the boy’s insides.

“Hah,” Armin exhales, laying on his stomach with the side of his head pressed to the pillow.

Jean sits up, kneeling behind him and noticing the way Armin’s almost breathless from how roughly he’d been pulled around.

“Your hair’s really messy now,” Jean laughs, reaching over to smooth down the soft yellow strands and lying beside his sweet angel. “Surprised you haven’t cut it, but it suits you. Has it always been down to your shoulders?”

Armin nods sleepily, feeling as if he never wants to move.

Jean suddenly grows cautious. “Was I... was I too rough?”

Armin tiredly turns around to face him, laying on his side with his face pressed to his forearm. “No,” he replies.

“You sure? I was shoving you around harder than I’ve ever done before and I feel kind of guilty.”

“Why’d you feel guilty? It didn’t hurt. It thrilled me.”

“Seriously?”

Armin just smiles.

“Well,” Jean says, “we’re obviously making a lot of progress, because there’s no way you would have been okay with that just a few months ago.”

“Very true,” Armin agrees. “Please don’t keep worrying about hurting me, Jean. I may be weaker than people like Mikasa and you and Eren, but I’m not made of glass. I can handle being thrown around a little. I trust you.”

“Just tell me if it gets too much, baby.”

“Always will.”

The both of them close their eyes briefly, almost falling asleep, until Armin suddenly sits up, looking irritated.

“Jean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really hungry.”

“Because you burned all those calories taking my huge cock just now,” Jean laughs. “Come on, get up. I’ll get you something.”

“But we don’t have many food supplies as it is...”

“I’ll sneak some for you. Because I love you.” He gestures to the pile of clothes on the floor. “Get dressed, now. It’s so fucking cold, too cold for us to be lying here naked this time of year.”

“Haha,” Armin giggles, pulling on his shirt. “You got that right.”

His lover nudges him playfully. “Armin, you know me. I’m always right.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad for not updating for almost a month. Studying for college takes up so much of my time at home that I’m actually pissed off about not updating. I know not many people read these, but for the ones who do, I’m really sorry for the less frequent uploads. I miss when I used to be able to post almost daily.


	45. Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t read this if you’re in a good mood.

This is a battlefield.

It’s just a piece of land that seems to stretch for miles. It’s mostly green, with a few trees littered here and there, and some mountains in the distance. It’s not ideal for manoeuvre gear, which may explain the hundreds upon hundreds of corpses littered across the green.

Jean is terrified that he’s the only survivor.

The visible bodies are less than half of the catastrophe. The majority were devoured alive.

He feels as if he’s been wandering for hours. He’s all alone, the whole of his squad having been wiped out. There are no titans in sight, probably because just one human isn’t enough to draw them in from a distance. If there were any nearby, he’d definitely hear their footsteps.

As he starts to despair, his eyes well up with tears.

_No_ , he thinks to himself as he wanders past the bloodbath. _No. No way am I the only one alive. This is a nightmare, and when I wake up, it’ll all be back to normal._

That titan had been intelligent, almost as if it was a human inside a titan body, just like Eren. It had known everything, from the formation of the soldiers to the functions of their weapons and gear. It had even recognised some of their faces.

_I’m not the only one alive_ , Jean tells himself, shivering. And even if he is, it’s not like he’ll live for much longer anyway, not without a horse. Sooner or later, one of those beasts will appear, and he’ll be gone.

That’s when he stops in his tracks.

He looks down to stare at the body of the soldier in front of him. And then all of a sudden he’s hyperventilating, his heart thrumming so hard that he feels as if it’ll burst from his chest, a sick kind of shock and despair arising within him.

He’s struck so hard that he falls to the ground. He doesn’t care that he’s got a broken wrist and that putting pressure on it will only make the pain worse, because nothing can compare to the kind of agony he feels within him now.

And yet, somehow, Armin’s body looks so peaceful. He’s laid down lifelessly on the hard ground on his front, the side of his head pressed against the filthy grass, pretty blonde hair spread around his head. He looks so small, his little body seemingly unfit for such an unwarranted and tragic death.

And yet, Jean isn’t crying. What’s the point? What is the _fucking point?_ Will it bring Armin back? No, it won’t, and it won’t bring Jean any kind of relief either, not in this situation. Still, he kneels down beside his dead lover, resting a hand against the back of his head. His body is still rather warm. Blood is trailing from his mouth and beneath his chin on the ground are what look - very disturbingly - like mangled organs.

Jean’s starting to wonder how exactly he died.

Then he remembers the exact moment. He should have known.

Armin had been tossed from his horse. Her giant hand had sent him hurtling towards the ground, dazed, hardly able to move. Then, after realising that those big blue eyes and that innocent demeanour weren’t enough to deter her from her mission, she made a choice.

And physically, it’d been so fucking easy. She’d just reached down as he laid there trembling, grabbed him by the waist, and squeezed the life out of him. He’d hardly had time to give anything other than a choked cry, and the thought of the helplessness, the tragedy - it has Jean shaking with fury, with agony that he can’t suppress even while he’s trying to figure a way out of this mess.

He doesn’t give a fuck about anything anymore. He could just kill himself right now. That would be better than being eaten alive, and a hell of a lot better than having to live without Armin.

He takes another look at his lover.

His eyes are half-lidded, his face showing no signs of pain or fear, but Jean knows he suffered, even if just for a second. His lover suffered a horrific and tragic death and it’s killing him, but he can’t cry, not now.

Jean is, oddly, numb to it all. It’s so overwhelming that he can’t feel a thing.

* * *

To my angel,

Armin, baby, I miss you everyday. There isn’t a moment that goes by in which I don’t think of you.

I still haven’t decided on my beliefs about what happens to us after we die. I think that whole thing about heaven and hell is bullshit, but it’s a nice thought knowing you might be somewhere where you’re really happy.

I know you loved me a lot, though, so I know you couldn’t be complete without me. Sounds egotistical and sickeningly cheesy, but it’s the truth.

Maybe it’s like being unconscious or asleep forever. That doesn’t sound that bad, but I need to believe that I will see you again someday, even if it’s not true. I can’t stand the thought of you sleeping and never waking up. Are you still conscious? Can you still think, hear, see? Or is it just like being in a deep, deep sleep?

Either way, I’m destroyed, and I don’t know what to do. I want to commit suicide just to see whether or not I can meet you again. It’s horrible, but I’ve lost the will to live.

I can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again, baby. Your cuddles in bed were the best, most loving things I ever felt. Fuck, Armin, you were a special human, the most special person I could have ever met. You were such a little sweetheart, the best thing that ever happened to me. The few years we spent together were the happiest I had ever been and I hope to god you knew that. I hope to god you knew how much you meant to me.

I love you, angel. That’s all I can say. Love itself isn’t really something that can be put into words.

⁃ Jean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing things that make me want to cry. It’s so cruel, and it’s actually amazing how much fiction can hurt when something happens to someone amazing.


	46. You Big Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really needed to write something fluffy and funny after that last depressing chapter. I can totally imagine Jean being shit scared of spiders and Armin having to deal with them all when they get married and have a house together.

Armin’s awoken from his peaceful sleep by a sudden yell. The sound makes him jump, and he instantly sits upright, shaking a little.

He glances up to see Jean cowering on top of their bed, staring at the floorboards apprehensively.

“Jean?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

Jean turns to look at him with wide, anxious eyes. “Christ, I just had the fright of my life.”

“What happened?” He caringly clasps a hand around Jean’s wrist, who seems hesitant to answer.

“Promise me you won’t laugh if I tell you?” he says weakly.

Armin’s taken by surprise. “No? I’m not going to laugh, Jean. Tell me what happened. Was it a nightmare?”

“No, it was...” His voice trails off into nothing.

“Please tell me.”

“There was a spider,” Jean whimpers.

There’s an awkward silence.

“How big?” Armin eventually asks, remaining completely serious. Jean’s not quite sure how he’s managing to keep a straight face. He’d full-on screamed, loud and high pitched enough to rouse Armin from sleep, and all because of a little animal that he was hundreds of times bigger than.

“Jean?” Armin continues when he doesn’t answer. “Why are you so ashamed? It’s a genuine phobia.”

“Yeah, and I’m supposed to be a _soldier_. What good am I if I can’t deal with something that small.” His words are spoken more like a statement than a question.

The small, sleepy blonde boy reaches over to the bedside lamp, turning it on. The room fills with golden light, and it’s incredibly cosy when they look outside to see how dark it’s getting.

“So how big was it?” Armin’s not afraid of spiders, but he knows how much Jean despises them, and if it’ll stop him from sleeping properly then he’s intent on getting rid of it.

“Uh... it wasn’t that big, it was like one of those small brown spiders you get in the garden... it ran under the bed.” He climbs into bed and hooks an arm around his lover, leaning in close as if he’s hiding.

Armin rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Jean? I was expecting one of those huge freaking house spiders you get in the summer! A little garden spider? You talk as if it’s the biggest one you’ve ever seen.”

“I need you to throw it out, angel,” Jean requests. “Or I won’t sleep.”

Armin groans and steps out of bed, shivering as the warm blanket slips off his skin and exposes him to the cool air. And he thought _he_ was a coward! 

He lays flat on the floor and peeks under the bed before reaching out to grab the little beast, which has started climbing up the bedpost towards Jean’s foot.

He opens his hand and shows his lover the tiny spider.

“You big baby,” Armin tells him.

“How am I a big baby? You do realise this is the kind of shit married couples do, right? You’re supposed to get rid of spiders and massage each other and cook surprise dinners and all that. It’s part of being a good spouse.”

“Yeah, if we _were_ married,” Armin giggles, opening the window and letting the spider out. “You baby.”

“How am I a baby?”

Armin begins to laugh as he clambers back into bed. “Jean, I’m kidding,” he grins, laying down to rest his head against his lover. “Seriously, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

“You’re dealing with all the spiders, then,” Jean says, planting a long kiss on the boy’s head.

“Doesn’t bother me as long as you’re there to satisfy me whenever I need it,” Armin says seductively, gazing into the handsome hazel eyes and running a small hand along Jean’s firm, bare chest.

“Oh, baby,” Jean utters contentedly, growing more and more drowsy as Armin strokes him.

“Yeah,” the blonde suddenly says, laughing. “You big baby.”

“You little baby,” Jean retorts playfully. He absolutely loves these little sessions they have in which they use potential insults as terms of endearment.

Sighing sleepily, Armin closes his eyes, snuggles down against Jean’s warm, comfortable body, and says:

“But you’re still my big baby.”


	47. Deprivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this, because he does. And Jean’s aware of this.

He’s been made to wait nearly a week for it already.

It was only today that Armin had finally caved and had begged him to stop being such a dick and _just fucking touch him already_.

And that’s what Jean’s planning on doing, of course - but not before teasing him for a while longer. Truth was, it was just as difficult for Jean, trying to restrain himself from just stopping what he was doing, pinning Armin down and giving him the ecstasy he deserved then and there. He was nigh impossible to resist.

“Jean, please,” Armin says, trembling. He feels as if he’s about to crack from the tension. He can’t see a thing beneath his blindfold, but he knows that the source of his satisfaction is right there with him, just a few centimetres away - and yet Jean blatantly refuses to do what he knows Armin needs because he’s a sneaky son of a bitch who loves nothing more than teasing his lover. “How much longer are you going to make me wait?”

“Not much longer, sweetheart,” Jean whispers, his breath grazing over Armin’s neck and making him shudder.

The blonde lowers his arm and begins to pleasure himself through his clothing, but it’s just not the same. Jean’s touch is _different_. It’s unpredictable and it _feels so good_.

“Hey, hey,” Jean says soothingly, gently pulling the boy’s arm away from his crotch. “Baby, you don’t need to do that. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“It’s so hard,” Armin tells him. “I’m rock solid! Please don’t make me ignore it!”

“Shhh,” the brunet hushes him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he kneels atop him. “Angel, I’m gonna make you feel like you’re in heaven.”

“Heaven? This is _hell_.”

“And soon, it’ll be heaven. Just you wait, love.”

“You just keep teasing me! You rub your hands near to where I’m sensitive and the moment I start to enjoy it, you move!”

“It’s gonna be so worth the wait.”

Armin groans, but does his best to relax and stay patient anyway.

Jean’s almost got him out of his clothes now. He’s been pulling them off of his body for a while now, very slowly, over the past half hour. Oh _boy_ does he know how to take things slow. Armin absolutely loves the way his fingertips tickle the surface of his skin, the way his tongue laps around his erogenous zones, the way his breath sends shivers down his spine. And at the same time, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the way he’s inviting him to relish everything he’s doing to him, only to take away what he needs the most.

When Jean is convinced that he’s being well behaved enough to warrant some kind of reward, he slips off Armin’s shirt and leans right over his chest, pressing his lips against his right nipple.

“Ah!” Armin vocalises, not expecting it.

“Look how hard these are,” Jean chuckles against his skin, parting his lips slightly and ever so gently sucking against the sensitive nub. He reaches his hand across and begins to rub his forefinger and thumb against the other one, which elicits a soft whine from the blonde’s throat.

“ _Jean!_ ”

His only response to the call of his name is another breathy chuckle against his skin, which forces Armin to shudder beneath him.

When Jean feels as if Armin’s been enough of a good boy, he pushes his tongue out of his mouth and starts to flick the tip against his nipple. He swirls it around the tender flesh, sucking, licking and pressing, quietly moaning at the way Armin gasps uncontrollably.

“Mmnngh,” Armin mumbles, raising his arms above his head and sighing with pleasure. “That feels nice...”

“Does it?” the young man asks seductively, glancing up until his eyes meet the expression on Armin’s face. His eyes may be covered, but if his furrowed brows and parted mouth are anything to go by, then Jean’s pleased with what he’s doing.

When his angel gives a soft but sudden moan, he discreetly lowers his hand and begins to rub against his boner through his clothes, which causes Armin to gently squeeze his thighs together and moan in invitation.

“More,” he whispers, almost tempted to grab Jean’s hand and shove it down his trousers because of how unbearably horny he is. “You can touch me, Jean. You know you can. You don’t even have to ask me.”

“I know I can, baby. But I also know that I have the option of making you wait and seeing you get desperate.”

“God, no,” Armin begs, raising his hips to try and gain some friction. “Jean, please pleasure me.”

“In a bit,” Jean says soothingly, cuddling his lover from where he’s looming over him. “Just relax, sweetheart. Armin, if you just lay there, I swear you’ll love everything I plan on doing to you.”

“Cripes, Jean, it’s a human biological need.”

“Not much longer now,” Jean assures him.

“Ngh. Whatever.”

Jean giggles at the sound of agitation he makes, but is pleased to see the young man beneath him slowly becoming less tense.

He leans close to his ear and whispers, “I’m gonna make you feel happy now, baby.”

Armin gives a small gasp of arousal, obviously turned on by the way Jean’s speaking to him so seductively.

He tucks his fingers into the waistband of his trousers and tugs them off, revealing the soft, slender legs beneath them. Jean runs his palms across his thighs, gazing at Armin and smirking. The blonde can feel his gaze, which only gets him more riled up. His fingers graze gently along the insides of his thighs, forcing Armin to shudder with anticipation.

“Touch me where I’m sensitive, Jean...”

“Soon. I’m not done with you yet.”

“You’re such an ass! You said you’d do it now.”

Jean just grins and leans forward, prying the young man’s legs apart. Armin’s so worn out from the teasing that he complies almost unconsciously, his entire body submissive to every move his partner makes upon him.

Jean begins to plant warm, wet kisses along every single patch of flesh he can find, drenching his lover in his heat, making him whine and quiver beyond his control.

“You like it?” the brunet whispers, actually tempted to remove the blindfold just to see those big blue eyes. They’d be filled with lust, glistening ever so slightly with what could possibly be tears.

“I like it and I also hate it,” Armin admits, eyebrows lowered in exasperation.

“You have no idea how much fun I’m having with you, Armin. You have no idea how much I love doing these things to you. You have no idea how hard I get when I hear you begging me to satisfy you.”

“Cruel,” Armin teases.

“Cruel to be kind,” Jean challenges, grinning the way he always does: devious, slightly smug, and, to Armin, absolutely _frustratingly gorgeous_.

* * *

Dulling or taking away one’s sense of sight tends to amplify everything else. That may explain why Armin’s so oversensitive.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be gentle,” Jean promises, staring down at Armin and wondering why someone angelic like him had even fallen in love with him in the first place.

“Don’t be _too_ gentle,” Armin grumbles, desperate for an orgasm.

Jean scoffs and leans forward, putting out his tongue and ever so slightly pressing it against the head of his lover’s cock, wondering if he’ll feel it. When he makes a sound of pleasure, he begins to lap around it, licking and gently sucking, all while using his hand to carefully pump along his shaft. Armin gets a little impatient then, reaching out and grabbing Jean’s wrist in an attempt to gain more stimulation, but Jean’s not having any of it.

He pushes Armin’s hand back down, using one arm to keep him pressed firmly against the mattress. Armin gives a squeal in response.

And then Jean finally stops teasing - he plunges his head forwards, lavishing the way Armin’s hard cock slides along his tongue and partway down his throat, the salty fluids coating the inside of his mouth. Armin begins to gasp and moan without abandon, bucking upwards into his lover’s mouth while he swirls his tongue around the veins on his shaft, tickling every single part of him that’s the most sensitive.

“Too much!” Armin gasps. “I’ll cum if you carry on...”

“That’s what I want,” Jean tells him after releasing him from his mouth, lips still pressed to the tip which is now soaked in clear precum.

“W-well so do I, but at least let me enjoy m-myself first.”

“Nope.”

Armin groans. “Are you having fun torturing me, Jean?”

“You know it, my love,” Jean says, and the grin in his voice is undeniable. Armin still feels his sneaky little grin as he expertly licks and sucks against the tender head, lapping up every drop of the salty fluid and carefully pressing his tongue into the slit until Armin’s writhing beneath him.

“Sh...sh-sh _it!_ ” Armin suddenly gasps, sitting upright as he comes hard against Jean’s face, drenching his lips and tongue in the pearly essence.

Both are completely taken aback by how quickly he’d reached tipping point.

“Ah...” Armin vocalises, not entirely sure what even just happened. “Ah, shit... shit. I wanted to last longer.”

“It’s not like you to swear,” Jean laughs, bringing a tissue to his mouth. Armin removes his blindfold and stares at Jean, who looks like a complete whore at this moment in time: his spiky hair is slightly tousled from the way Armin’s been tugging on it, his pupils dilated, a thin layer of sweat lining his forehead. Trails of semen still drip from the corners of his mouth and it’s almost enough to make the blonde hard again.

“Well,” Armin says, smiling and sighing. “I think you just about destroyed me.”

“Oh? And how did I do that?” Jean asks playfully, throwing an arm around his lover and tackling him beneath the duvet, peppering his head with kisses.

“By making me lie there for half an hour in frustration while you touched and kissed every part of my body except for where I needed to be touched most, and then making me come so hard and fast that it felt like it was over before it even began.”

Jean chuckles at him. “You absolutely love this kind of shit,” he tells him, completely able to see into Armin’s desires. “Angel, the look on your face while I was all over you completely gave it away. Even though I couldn’t even see your eyes, I knew you were absolutely euphoric.”

Armin laughs a little, unable to stop himself from smiling as he’s held close against Jean. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit that you’re pretty talented when it comes to literally _anything_ sexual.”

“Good boy,” Jean praises, cuddling him softly but firmly. “You’re so perfect, Armin. So perfect that I can’t help myself. Especially not when you’ve been asking me to pleasure you for days on end, only to find yourself right there in front of me while I’m getting you so close to that point of satisfaction, only to take it all away. You sound so amazing when you demand that I touch you, when you call my name, when you tell me you can’t bear to go without my touch for any longer.”


	48. Twenty Eight

It was pitch black just forty minutes ago, the sun not yet visible upon the horizon. The sky is a dull blue, growing lighter in colour and appearing pale yellow towards where the sun is soon to rear its head, but it’s still freezing cold, the world cast in shadow.

Jean wakes up to an empty bed. It’s pure instinct for him to reach over and feel his arm wrapping itself around something soft, against the body of another human. But this time it falls dully against the mattress, which is still warm to the touch.

“Huh,” he utters, slightly confused.

The island of Paradis isn’t all that warm in most parts, and right now they’re in early November - late autumn, almost winter. It’s been a good few years since their island was cleared of the mindless titans, but it’ll be a significant while until everything’s at peace on a political level. Their man-eating predators may be gone, but their enemies on the other side are not.

Jean steps out of bed, shivering. The floor is stone cold against his feet, but he isn’t bothered. He tugs on a soft grey robe that’s folded neatly on the counter and wanders towards the door, surprised when he realises how early it is.

He doesn’t know where his lover is.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “Armin, are you there?”

There’s no verbal response, but he does hear a faint cough from somewhere, and proceeds to wander outside in little other than the grey material that’s wrapped around him.

He steps outside to see Armin sat quietly on a wooden bench. He’s sat with one leg crossed over the other, Jean’s woollen poncho draped over him, a thick book resting on his lap. His bare feet rest against the dewy grass, long hair curled slightly from the moisture in the air.

“Angel?” Jean calls, and the blonde turns around in surprise.

“Hey,” he says, smiling.

“You okay?” Jean asks, concerned. He takes a seat beside him and makes a slight face at the cold dampness on the bench that soaks his backside. “What are you doing out here? It’s so early and cold.”

“I wanted some fresh air.”

“You don’t even have shoes on.”

“Neither do you.”

Jean laughs lightly. “Fair enough. I was just worried. I got the impression something was wrong when I woke up and realised you were outside. It’s freezing...”

“No, I’m good,” Armin assures him, but something about him seems solemn. It’s as if there’s something bigger, something underlying and more significant, something that’s been looming over him for a long time.

“I love you, Armin,” Jean says lovingly, embracing him.

“I love you,” Armin whispers back, kissing Jean on the cheek.

“I hope you enjoy yourself today.”

“It’s my last one,” Armin says, smiling sadly. “I remember Eren’s twenty-third, five years ago. I miss him.”

“You won’t believe me, but so do I. I even miss when we used to fight. I miss him being the village idiot, the one who somehow grew up to be so mature and capable. I miss Eren, too.”

“Maybe I should just live in the moment now,” Armin says wistfully. “It feels like I haven’t really enjoyed being alive for the most part.”

“I’m with you all the way,” Jean tells him gently, squeezing his hand. “I’m always with you, Armin. I’ll do my best to make you happy for as long as I can.”

The smaller man just nods. He closes his book and leans into Jean, instantly comforted by his warmth and familiar scent.

“Happy birthday, angel.”


	49. Survive

Jean’s been keeping his eyes and ears open all day ever since the incident, fully aware of everything his lover has seen and done today. Every time he sees Armin, he realises that, if that clever young man didn’t exist, he’d have died today.

Mikasa wanders inside, trying not to look as upset as she feels. She’s just been knelt beside Armin as he’s been sobbing and shivering, the fact that he killed a human enough to make him vomit.

“Jean,” she says under her breath. “Please, talk to Armin. You’re the only one who’ll help.”

“I’ll make things worse,” Jean insists, hesitating. “I don’t know when to shut my mouth.”

“No, you’ll be a lot of help. He needs you. He needs the sound of your voice more than anybody else’s. Even more than _Eren’s_.”

Jean takes one last look at her and walks outside, over to where Armin is sat upright by a tree, his head in his hands.

“Go away,” he whispers when he hears the sound of footsteps.

“It’s Jean,” the brunet speaks.

“Jean?” Armin moves his hands and looks up at him, then squeezes his eyes shut and lowers his head. “No, I refuse to let you see me like this.”

“Please let me stay with you,” Jean requests, kneeling down beside him.

“I can’t. It’s embarrassing. I don’t want you to see me crying and hating myself and throwing up and wishing I wasn’t alive.”

_Shit_ , Jean thinks, genuinely lost for words. What the heck can he say? Armin’s so psychologically vulnerable right now that saying the wrong thing could totally wreck him. Armin’s naturally so kind and sweet that the fact that he ended another human life is too much for him to handle.

“Can I at least hold your hand?”

Armin looks up. “But I’ve been crying and it’s all wet...”

“So?”

A glimpse of an amused smile flashes across his face for a second before disappearing. “Alright,” he says, extending his hand and clasping it around Jean’s, who scoots closer to him. It’s much warmer than his own smaller, colder one.

The two of them just sit there in silence, neither initiating eye contact nor communicating with the other in any way. There’s no need to. They’ve shared so much time together that they’re not far off one and the same.

But then there’s a quiet voice.

“Hey Jean?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think it would be okay if you slept next to me tonight? Or would somebody say something?”

“Why would anybody say anything? It’s none of their business.”

“But they might get the wrong idea... you know what people are like. I don’t want to do anything lewd. I just want someone I love and trust beside me to hold me while I sleep.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing for you for the past few years, angel,” Jean chuckles. “Why would you even have to ask?”

“Because this is nothing like the barracks.”

“Yeah... but I’ll always hold you, Armin. I’m never going to leave. Shit, angel, you don’t even have to ask for anything. All you have to do is be there and I’ll do anything for you, anything you want.”

The blue eyes widen in surprise at Jean’s emphasis. “I can’t just take advantage of you. Not even when I’m like this. Not even when I can’t eat without feeling nauseous.”

“It’s not taking advantage, it’s called altruism. I want to look after you because I love you and because seeing you hurt goes against my conscience. You’re one of the only people I’ve ever met who I truly care about.”

Armin sniffs quietly and suddenly gets up. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get inside.” Jean can’t understand his sudden standoffishness until he takes a closer look nearer to the light and sees that his cheeks are a rather dark tint of pink.

_Is he blushing? Is he happy?_

_Did I make him happy by saying the things that I did?_

* * *

“This filthy stable make you lose your appetite?” Levi asks, when he notices Armin sat staring at the provision in his hand, uninterested.

“It’s not that...”

Everyone else is eating as if they haven’t had a single snack in about a week, and here’s Armin sat here looking as if he can’t stomach a single thing.

“Can I have that?” Sasha asks, leaning over to him and hovering curiously near the food in his hand.

He tosses it to her casually. “Go ahead.”

Jean leans in closer and huddles against him, wrapping an arm around him. They may have had this kind of relationship for years, but it’s still enough to make Armin feel shy and flustered with all these people around him.

“Hey,” Levi suddenly says. “Jean, do you know why you’re here right now?”

Jean narrows his eyes at him. “Keep quiet. Leave me and Armin alone.”

Levi ignores him. “It’s because that woman hesitated, and Armin didn’t.”

“Shut up!” Jean growls. “God, and I thought _I_ was tactless! Have you seen how upset he’s been? Do you even care?”

“Leave it, Jean,” Armin says, smiling almost wistfully. “Let him say what he wants. I’m going to bed soon, anyway.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jean says protectively, pressing his cheek against Armin’s. At this point neither can give a crap about having everyone’s eyes on them. _So what?_ So they’re two boys in love, what’s the big deal? Why would staring eyes matter?

* * *

Jean’s hoping that, at the very least, his lover feels safe while he’s asleep tonight. Almost everyone seems to be regularly plagued with nightmares considering they’re soldiers up against man-eating monsters, but Armin’s seem to be the most brutal.

Surprisingly, the blonde had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow, safe and warm in his partner’s strong, loving arms. He’s perfectly still, almost smiling a little in his sleep, completely silent. He looks peaceful.

He looks so adorable that Jean doesn’t want to sleep, because he just can’t stop looking at him and thinking of how lucky he is to have him.

Today has been a bad day, but because Armin has Jean and Jean has Armin, they survived.


	50. At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's at a rather awkward conflict, all while Armin is blissfully unaware. Set during the training arc, during a point at which they wouldn't be overly close.

He shouldn't be so anxious. He and Armin have been acquaintances for a while, and when boys get close on a physical level, things happen, right? _Right?_

Oh, but Armin's different. He's _different_ from the rest of the cadets. He's feminine and clever and Jean doesn't want to think of or perceive him in any other way than he currently does. And besides, he might even be imagining or misinterpreting this.

He almost doesn't want it to be a misinterpretation, though. He'd heard a small vocalisation, a quiet but high gasp, and what sounded suspiciously like a whine. Not one of pain or sadness. One of neediness crossed between satisfaction, two entirely different states.

After all, it's late, and Jean wouldn't be surprised. He's certain everyone except he and Armin are fast asleep now, as content as is feasible while they're laid beside a big tree in sleeping bags. He glances over in the dark and can just about see that Armin's untied his around both sides and is using the top layer like a duvet, his face pressed against the top.

"Nnghh..." There it is again: that desperate but somehow contented voice - it's definitely Armin, not just because his sleeping bag is right next to Jean's but because the sound is too soft and high to belong to any of the other young men. Jean can't decide whether or not he wants to cover his ears with his sleeping bag, because his voice is _so sweet_ to listen to and, for all he knows, may be completely innocent. But what if he's hearing something Armin wouldn't want him to? He'd never be able to see the cute little blonde in the same way, not after hearing something like that.

But so what? He's human, right? He's a teenage boy, and it's normal. Why would Jean feel awkward about it? After all, he’s done the same, and he knows he shouldn’t automatically assume Armin would be different somehow.

“ _Ahn!_ ” There is no way that wasn’t a moan. Jean almost squeals in response, but doesn’t cover his ears. Holy shit! Is Armin actually _masturbating?_ Him, of all people, doing it here?

 _Calm yourself_ , Jean thinks, his heart thumping a little harder than usual. His crush is right beside him, giving sexual gasps and whines occasionally, his small but eager hand thrusting against his body beneath the sleeping bag. Jean almost feels guilty for lying awake just to listen, and maybe even catch a glimpse of his face, which would almost certainly hold an expression of pleasure and satisfaction.

But he doesn’t forget that there’s still a possibility of him getting this all wrong, that Armin’s actually being completely innocent and moaning in pain at some kind of injury that Jean can’t see. Rationally, though, the chances of this are quite slim, and in a sense, he’s glad of this. He’s quickly becoming aroused to the extent where he feels as if he’s grown hard enough for his boner to be visible through his sleeping bag.

“Mmm... ngh,” Armin’s voice partly whispers. Jean bites his lip, forcing himself to keep silent.

“Ahn... ah, ah, _ah!_ Hah... hahh-!”

“G-god,” Jean quietly hisses in response, unable to stop himself in time. Now he’s touching himself, gripping his cock and pounding his hand against his lower abdomen, pulling back his foreskin to reveal the pink head, drenched in fluid. Armin makes another quiet sound and Jean feels his cock twitch in response, a warm trail of pre sliding down his shaft and lubricating his movements.

He’s ashamed - _so_ ashamed - but whenever Armin moans or gasps or makes any noise at all, Jean starts to imagine. He’s ashamed to imagine - and even more ashamed to admit he’s imagining - that Armin’s right here on top of him, knelt atop his abdomen, his frail body completely bare and exposed to Jean’s hungry eyes. He wishes he could just tell Armin how fucking beautiful he is, just take him here and now, give him the satisfaction he’s so desperately craving. He wants to tear off his clothes and push him down onto his cock until the fragile blonde is sobbing, his backside pressed firmly against Jean’s crotch, the slightest movement sending a litany of wails and moans from his throat.

_Oh god does he want this._

But he’s not man enough to even tell Armin that he looks nice. He’s not strong enough to walk over and shake his hand, tell him he admires his determination as a soldier. He’s not strong enough to offer any of his food at dinner, nor maintain eye contact for long periods of time, because those ocean eyes are just too beautiful and piercing.

“Ah...”

Another noise, another surge of determination within Jean.

He hopes Armin hasn’t heard him or even sensed that he’s aware of what he’s doing. Armin can’t know about this. But he’ll find out eventually, because he’s clever and he can read Jean like a book.

Once it grows silent, Jean slowly lowers his head back onto his makeshift pillow and closes his eyes. He tugs the edge of the sleeping bag up towards his face and turns over to face Connie, who’s gently snoring beside him in the dark. It’s a relief knowing that everyone else is (hopefully) asleep. Jean can trust himself to keep everything he’s just witnessed quiet, but he can’t trust anyone else.

He waits until he’s certain Armin’s fallen asleep before he dares to try and nod off. He should have been asleep ages ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not while Armin was laid beside him touching himself in the dark.

He’s going to dream well tonight, even outside here in the cold.


	51. Romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so annoyed with myself for not uploading in forever. I’ve had so many chapter ideas but every time I start one I struggle to think how to carry on with it and conclude it. But I was feeling a bit inspired this morning and the love words came churning out, so here we go. I actually really love this one. I think it accurately sums up the way I view this ship in general.

_He’s like warm silk._

Jean refuses to take his hands off of Armin. He feels so wonderful, so _perfect_ , like a puzzle piece that has been missing for so long. The satisfaction of how well they seem to fit together is just like a puzzle, and right now it feels like one big, long ongoing feeling of satisfaction, exactly the same as what one might get when they finally complete a puzzle - except much longer and far more intense.

His hands almost fit all the way around his waist, and something about that seriously turns him on. It’s just that _something_ about Armin’s perfect body pressing right against his own makes him feel dominant and alpha, makes him feel strong, and powerful.

The gasp the blonde gives as Jean lifts him up and then slowly - very, very slowly - presses him down onto his cock is delicious.

“Nngh... _ah!_ ” Armin cries out, relishing in the moment. It’s that one feeling he loves most in the world: the one where he’s waiting and waiting to be taken until finally he’ll feel a familiar kind of pressure against his entrance, and then Jean’s entering him, deep until he can go no further. It takes him a moment to adjust and for a short while it’s almost painful, the thick organ _stretching_ his tight insides, so deep he can feel the tip pressing into his abdomen.

Jean just sits there, gazing at him, appreciating just how good at this Armin seems to be. He’s knelt on top of him, legs spread just a little, the pink tip of his arousal soaked with clear, thick fluid. It’s left a small trail on Jean’s lower abdomen which shines in the light.

When Jean begins to lovingly caress the warm softness of his backside and hips, Armin clenches tightly around him in response and suddenly moans loudly and obscenely. He keeps clenching rhythmically, tightening and then relaxing around the organ until Jean’s a gasping mess right before his eyes. And then Jean’s touching him again, running his hands over every patch of skin he can find, caressing his intimate areas and taking pride in the way Armin’s shuddering with pleasure.

Armin’s moans turn to desperate and high-pitched gasps, and before he knows it he’s rocking himself against him, _slowly_ sliding the ring of muscle across the length. Jean’s hands are still clutching at the soft globes of his ass, stroking his silky warm skin as the young man pleasures himself against him, his eyes closed. Jean feels the urge to close his too, but Armin’s too beautiful. That boy is _way_ too pretty not to stare at, especially not while he’s like this, at his most gorgeous. A relaxed but ecstatic expression suits his face perfectly.

“Hahhh...”

_Sometimes, slower is better._

“Ahh... ahh....”

_Actually, a lot of the time._

To Jean, it can hardly even be considered _fucking_. “Fucking” is an obscene, animalistic and vulgar word, one with zero connotations of love, just filthy shallow ones of lust and primitive desires. This is _not_ fucking. What these two young men are engaging in is _lovemaking_ , an act driven by passion, care, and appreciation for one another. It’s not done just for the sake of doing it. It’s done for so much more than that.

“Ah...! Ah! Ah! _Hah!_ ”

Jean chuckles in admiration at Armin. He’s too far gone to say anything, absolutely drowning in pleasure with Armin gently riding him like this. But he leans forward and starts to kiss his partner as he nears orgasm, his pants and soft whines muffled by Jean’s mouth pressed against his.

He lovingly wraps his arms around the small blonde and breathes in his sweet, familiar scent.

“You close?” Jean whispers, rubbing his back.

“Y... ye... yeah...”

Armin tilts his head back, exposing the pale skin on his neck. Jean starts to pepper it with kisses and doesn’t stop until Armin’s panting and moaning as he comes, his whole vessel quivering and tensing beyond his control.

Then that sets Jean off; seeing Armin climax is too much for him to bear, too hot for him to stand. He feels himself explode inside him, warm and messy as it slowly leaks out of his used hole.

Armin gives a sound of defeat and slumps forward into Jean’s arms, not even bothering to lift himself up so he can pull out.

“That felt so good...”

“I know, baby,” Jean says, smiling.

“I wish I could describe it, you know?” Armin says thoughtfully. “I don’t know how to put sex into words.”

“You don’t have to. I could see how much you were loving it.”

“But I want to. I want to be able to tell you _how amazing it is for me_ without actually using those words.”

“Angel,” Jean says amusedly. “You’re not the only one who just orgasmed.”

“I know,” he groans, and then laughs. “I just need you to know that you’re capable of taking me to a different world when you do these things to me.”

“Good,” Jean whispers against his cheek, never wanting to move from this spot. “Good... I’m glad, because unfortunately, our real world is hell.”


	52. His Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean knows the difference between right and wrong. He knows that it’s not right to think like this, but it’s nigh impossible for him not to. Alas, his ideals aren’t purely selfish - anyone besides himself would be able to see that, but as for now, he’s ridden with guilt.
> 
> Set during a time period in which they’d be little more than acquaintances: early training arc.

How does one go about pursuing another without being viewed as a creep or stalker?

That’s what Jean wants to know.

Because being overly friendly, offering too much help, and always wanting to sit beside them would give things away, right? Even if they _are_ boys and same-sex relationships are less common than heterosexual ones. It’d still be a bit strange to the others, wouldn’t it?

But one day - probably sometime soon - Jean’s going to cave. One day he’ll grow frustrated at having to watch and drool over that beautiful face and body from a distance. He can’t help it. He respects boundaries, but this is _Armin_ he has a crush on, the weak little nerdy guy from Shiganshina. Jean’s a good young man, but something about Armin seems to break down those barriers between what is acceptable and unacceptable behaviour.

They’re barely more than strangers, but the truth is, Jean could just take him. He could just wander over, just kiss him right on the lips, shove his tongue into his mouth and taste his warmest depths. Hell, he could bring him over to his bed and just slide his dick inside him, bend him over and hold him tight as he gently fucks him right up to climax.

But that would mean having to ask, having to say the words, having to physically approach Armin and become close to him. The way the blonde tends to blush when people speak to him - the way he’s shy and introverted - makes Jean all the more anxious. How would he even do it?

“Armin, will you have sex with me?”

How could he _ask_ that?

But he’s just so hard for Jean to resist.

* * *

Jean will take any chance he can get, even the smallest ones. He offers to help him put on his gear just to have an excuse to gently feel his body, to feel the heat of the boy’s soft skin against his palms. He’ll offer to help him in the showers, even just to lean over the stall and help him rinse his hair, to get a glance at that small, skinny body. He’d never stare. One peek at those slowly forming abs from the 3DM gear training is more than enough.

He even offered to share his flask of water with him when Armin was made to train overtime along with the rest of the weaker ones. _Almost like an indirect kiss_ , Jean had thought, feeling like a real pervert. He feels horrible about being so obsessed with Armin, but it’s more in the way of caring about him to an unhealthy extent, not just wanting to fuck him senseless. Yes, Jean wants to fuck Armin. He wants to fuck him until the boy is crying out in ecstasy, until he’s so overcome with pleasure that he’s trembling. But he also wants the sweet young soldier to be happy, to find solace in this hellish world, and he wants to be the one to bring it to him.

* * *

Jean feels so lucky today.

They’re sat in class, about six of them crammed at a four-seat desk in a row at the front while a dude with glasses on is talking about why they shouldn’t just ignore abnormal titans. The rest of the tables behind them are completely full, and Jean’s glad of it.

He’s seated right beside Armin, so close to him, just a few inches away from his face. The smart blonde is taking in everything the professor says, scribbling it all down, focused. _I can’t just go ahead and distract him_ , Jean thinks frustratedly.

But then he runs out of paper on the right side of his page and has to lean further to the left if he has any hope of not being knocked by Eren’s elbow.

This brings him closer to Armin. So close that he can almost detect that faint, sweet scent, the one he’d noticed while he’d stood directly behind him once during training, his nose just centimetres away from those beautiful golden locks. It always draws him in, forces him to turn all his attention to Armin, to get closer, to just get a little touch of that warm silky skin.

He imagines what he’d feel like being held tight by him at the waist, his small torso trembling as he’s pounded from behind, a never-ending string of vowel sounds spilling from his mouth. Jean would lean over, start to kiss the skin on his back, inhale the scent he loves the most in the world.

But he needs to stop. He’s in class. Armin is right next to him, and he’s going to pop a boner any moment.

“ _Yes._..”

 _Stop thinking,_ Jean tells himself, realising he’s fallen behind.

 _”Oh... yes... Jean! Yes, right there!_ ”

Reality couldn’t be any further away from Jean’s current fantasies.

“ _Ahn, ahn, ahn, **ahh** -_”

“ _Jean, push it deeper, don’t stop... I think I’m... mmm, I’m... ah..._ ”

And there goes the boner.

“ _Jean, I’m coming-! Ngh... more, yes... I’m coming! Jean-“_

“Shit,” Jean curses under his breath, shivering. He does his best to snap out of it when the professor leaves the room, relaxing in his seat and breathing deeply.

“Hmm?” Armin suddenly responds. “Are you okay, Jean?”

“Just fine,” Jean says quickly, sweating.

All of a sudden he feels _terrible_ \- terrible about thinking such lewd thoughts about the innocent boy next to him and terrible about letting it show.

“You seem too hot,” Armin apologetically says. “I’d give you some space if I could, but Mikasa’s so close beside me I can hardly breathe.”

“If I move any further I won’t have any table to lean on,” she says, annoyed.

“I know, I wasn’t blaming you.” Armin sighs, puts down his pen and puts his arm right next to Jean’s. “If you missed anything, you can copy my notes.”

“I’m alright,” Jean wheezes.

“Oh... okay,” Armin says anxiously.

_Shit... he spoke to me!_

* * *

“Hey Jean!”

“Yes?” Jean replies, almost jumping when he sees that it’s Armin speaking to him.

“Want to go into town with me on our day off? I need to help get some food supplies and they told me to bring someone with me. Want to come?”

“Yeah... I-I mean, I’m not sure, I might be able to!” Jean says over enthusiastically. Everything that he says and does in front of Armin seems so unnatural that he wouldn’t be surprised if the young man took back his offer and walked out.

“I won’t force you,” the blonde says, gently sitting down on Jean’s bed right beside him, so close their thighs are touching. It’s that wonderful, familiar feeling again, the feeling of Armin being close to him - something about it feels _so right_ , and if he wasn’t such a coward he’d throw his arms around that warm, soft body right this second.

“I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” Armin smiles. “Thanks, Jean. I want to spend more time with you, you know?”

Jean is blushing. His cheeks are burning hot.

“Armin... could I just... hold you?”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry,” he instantly apologises, his stomach turning. “I’m sorry, that was weird...”

“No, go ahead! It’s so cold! It’s the best way to stay warm.”

“Ah... yeah,” Jean says awkwardly, pretending to shiver.

He slowly wraps an arm around his narrow body, then wraps the other one around him, leaning in close. He loves his scent so much that he could sit here all day holding him, showing him affection.

Armin laughs lightly. “Your hair tickles.”

He can’t believe Armin is letting him do this.

_Does this mean I have a chance? Could Armin actually be gay, or even bisexual?_

“I’d like to get to know you, Jean. I know you don’t like my best friend, but... I’m nothing like Eren. Something about the things you say and the way you act reminds me of myself.”

“Come sit with me at dinner later then, if you’d like,” Jean kindly offers.

“I want to.”

_Marry me._

Little does Jean know that Armin’s heart is racing even faster than his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any ideas/suggestions/something you really want to see in this pairing, please tell me. I’m struggling to find inspiration nowadays and I always start things only to end up deleting them because I can’t think how to continue it. This one turned out pretty well, though, and writing it was very interesting to say the least.


	53. Sleepwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effects of losing a friend can vary from the devastating to the bizarre, but Jean knows he’ll never stray far from what he needs the most.

There’s a quiet _creak_. Armin’s asleep, but somehow he hears it, in the back of his mind. It’s not enough to wake him.

Then there’s another quiet sound, the sound of something making contact with the wooden floor, but Armin doesn’t hear a thing this time.

He gives a barely audible murmur and shifts about in his sleep, blissfully unaware. He isn’t dreaming, and thank god. It’s wonderful to have a nice, long, empty and dreamless sleep, nothing but black for eight whole hours.

Jean is also asleep - but here he is, standing upright, as if he were awake. He’s in that odd state between consciousness and unconsciousness, the type where one might begin to hear things from the real world while they’re still asleep, or may be able to perceive things they don’t even know they’re perceiving. Somewhere in his mind, he knows where he’s going and why.

With his eyes closed, he slowly begins to walk forward, familiar with the layout of the building. It was like a second home to the cadets, filled with rooms just like those they would have had back at home and a lot more comfortable than the barracks.

He comes to the stairs and somehow feels a light twinge of anxiety in his stomach. It feels dangerous, but it doesn’t wake him, and he proceeds to walk down, almost missing a step and losing his footing.

He comes to the outside, still asleep, unfazed by the cold night air. He wanders for a few minutes or so until he reaches the secluded spot with the blackened pile of wood on the ground, and that’s when the smell of burnt and ash starts to wake him up.

He opens his eyes and gasps, almost losing his balance from the surprise of discovering where he is and the fact that he’s standing up. “Ah,“ he begins, in complete and utter shock. “Where-“

Then he looks down to see the burned-out fire, which, when he peers closely, still has a couple of dimly glowing embers. He is at a complete loss as to why and how he got here, although the question of why almost seems as though it’s been answered when he realises he’d been stood in this exact spot just hours before, watching the bodies of his friends burn.

Meanwhile, Armin’s slowly awoken by the lack of warmth in the bed he’d been sharing with Jean, and suddenly feels his heart start to race.

* * *

“Jean!”

Still bewildered, Jean looks up to see Armin running towards him, shivering. “What the hell are you doing out here? It’s 1am.”

“I...” He doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t know, I just woke up and here I was...”

Armin looks at him with lowered eyelids, almost as if he doesn’t believe him.

“You _must_ know,” the young man insists, confused. “You were laying right beside me when you fell asleep. I saw you! What’s going on? Why are you... _here?_ ” He points to the burned patch and shoots him a depressing look.

“Because something came over me, okay?” Jean replies, leaning into Armin. “Because obviously something was telling me that I had to without me even realising it. Even if it was during my sleep.”

“But why... why here?”

Jean grits his teeth. “Because I can’t fucking let my friend go, dammit!” He almost thumps Armin out of frustration before stopping and doing it to himself instead. “Because I’m hurt and because he wouldn’t leave me alone while I was asleep! He wouldn’t stop talking to me, wouldn’t stop saying how good of a person I was even though I’m a piece of shit...”

“Wait, who? You mean Marco?” Armin gasps.

“Who else? All I could see while I was asleep was him, telling me stuff I didn’t deserve to hear, reminding me of how goddamn much I’ll miss him. I was trapped inside the dream I was having and the next thing I knew, I was here.”

Armin takes a deep breath and holds Jean tightly. He doesn’t know how to respond. All he can think of to say is that he’s hurt too, having lost a close friend everyone had loved for all these years.

“Come back to bed, Jean. Please. It’s freezing out here. And dark.”

And with that, Armin begins to lead him back, the torches on the side of the building barely providing enough light.

“I came out here in my sleep, didn’t I?”

“You must have.”

“Sleepwalking, huh?” Jean says softly, a bit taken aback. “I thought only people with problems did that.”

“What kind of problems?”

“Mental ones, I suppose. I’m fine, I guess I just... lost my mind a little there. But I’m fine.”

A few minutes later and they’re walking back up the stairs and into their room, climbing into the bed that’s still warm.

“I’m locking the door next time,” Armin says worriedly. “You could have easily fallen down those stairs.”

“You sound like a mother.”

Armin scoffs. “I don’t mean to. I’m just really concerned about what the heck even _happened_. That’s not normal, you know? And to actually go to the place you last saw our deceased friend is even scarier. What was making you do it?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Jean says, holding his lover close and pressing his cheek to his shoulder. “I wasn’t aware of anything I was doing. I just woke up and there I was, in the exact spot I stood earlier.”

Armin sighs. “I worry about you, Jean. I love you. If this happens again we gotta tell someone.”

“I love you too, angel,” Jean whispers. “I don’t think it will, you know. It’s never happened before.”

Armin gives a satisfied smile. “Just keep yourself safe, okay? That’s all I could ever ask for, Jean.”


	54. The Simple Pleasures of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Made up of things these two beautiful men deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is looong. I wanted to write a long one because I figured writing infrequent but long one-shots is better than writing shorter ones and making my readers wait a long time for another short one. I’m just not overly inspired right now, but it’ll come to me with time.

“Aha... ahahaha!”

Jean sniggers too, grinning.

“Crap, that tickles,” Armin says breathlessly, still laughing, a red flush spread across his upper cheeks. “God... I didn’t know I was ticklish... are you, Jean?”

“Oh, no, no,” Jean says innocently.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Armin corrects him, reaching over and going straight for his ribs, mercilessly forcing a wail of laughter from Jean.

This is something that they adore about their relationship. They’re so comfortable together like this, so secure and happy. It’s so easy for them to laugh, to just mess around, to be immature for once and have fun.

“Where are you most ticklish, Jean?” Armin asks deviously.

“Backs of my legs,” Jean says sheepishly before surrendering. Armin pounces on top of him and hugs him tightly, wriggling his hands over the sensitive spots behind his knees while he peppers wet kisses all over him, which sends a sweet litany of part-moans and part-giggles from Jean’s throat.

“Love you, Jean,” Armin says dreamily, suddenly going in for a passionate, deep kiss. There’s no time for the taller man to reply; he’s knocked back onto the bed, Armin having pushed him down to sink his tongue deep into his hot cavern, and he’s finding himself surprisingly turned on by Armin taking control like this. It’s uncharacteristic of him, but something about it suits him, suits those dark desires that he knows the kind blonde angel keeps in the back of his mind.

Armin lifts his head up and takes a breath, both of their mouths soaking wet and tasting of nothing except eachother.

“Ahh,” Jean moans when he looks down and sees Armin straddling him, legs bent on either side of his torso, his big blue eyes peering intensely into Jean’s.

“Go on,” Jean pants. “Again, baby. Do it again.”

Armin giggles and leans down to kiss him again - it’s a lot warmer and wetter this time, their tongues intertwined, their teeth gently grazing across eachother’s lips so erotically that Armin’s becoming increasingly aware of his own erection.

And then Jean starts tickling his upper thighs and backside, which makes him lift his head up to shriek with laughter. “Oh, god... you ruined the perfect moment!” he groans.

“ _Every_ moment is perfect when you’re around me,” Jean tells him.

“Hahh,” Armin sighs, so turned on that he feels like the area between his legs is ten times hotter than the rest of his body.

“What’s up, angel?”

“I’m just happy, if I’m honest,” Armin says, smiling.

“Good,” Jean whispers, running his fingers gently down Armin’s sides. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he can feel the hardness of his lover’s boner brushing against his crotch, and it’s given him an idea.

“Can I...”

“Yeah?” Armin’s hoping he’ll ask what he thinks he’ll ask.

“This...” Jean tugs on Armin’s shirt and starts grinning. “Can I take this off?”

“You can take everything off me,” Armin says without hesitation. “You’ve got me sat here with a hard on, now. Look what you’ve done.”

“Yes,” Jean says lustfully. “Look what I’ve done to this gorgeous body that’s all mine.”

Armin can’t hold out like this for much longer, not after the way he’d kissed Jean, not after the way he’d been touched just right. He lays back and extends his limbs, inviting Jean to strip him down to his underwear, which was actually a huge relief considering it was the middle of June.

He pulls the boy back onto him and tugs him forward until they’re cuddling, his face right beside Armin’s ear. He carefully brushes back the long hair and whispers, “Can I touch you, Armin?”

Armin just nods eagerly, his skin still a little sensitive from earlier. He shivers when Jean carefully slides a hand beneath his underwear and gently gropes his ass, running the palm of his hand over the warm soft skin and sighing with pleasure at how wonderful it feels to have Armin here with him like this, so close and contented.

And then Armin can feel him grinning again - he’s gently tickling him where he knows it’ll make him gasp and maybe moan, or maybe even make him laugh. “Jean!” Armin giggles as he softly strokes his fingertips along his skin after having tugged off his underwear, sending little jolts up his spine.

“Yeah?”

“I-if you keep - ah! - tickling me, I’ll start laughing again and then I p-probably won’t be horny anymore.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Jean says, amused. He’s grinning at the fact that Armin’s sat above him completely naked while he himself is still fully clothed, unbearably turned on by the concept.

Armin seems to suddenly realise this and a pink blush forms on his cheeks. “Jean!” he hisses. “You should take your clothes off too...”

Jean’s still grinning at him, a devious look on his face. “Fine, but this is as far as I’ll go.” He unzips his trousers and pushes them and his underwear down to his mid-thigh, revealing his large cock that stands erect before Armin, who begins to blush even more. Jean’s a damn good size, at least 8.5 inches or so.

“Hah...” Armin’s staring at the huge organ, arousal flooding every inch of his being like wildfire. “I need to...”

“What, angel?” Jean chuckles, tugging Armin forwards. He lightly grips his long hair, which is pale and wispy in the light as it hangs beside his face, and gently pulls his face down towards his cock. “What do you need to do?”

“I want... I want to taste you,” Armin says bashfully.

“Baby, you don’t gotta ask.” He cups the back of his lover’s head in encouragement until he feels a hot wet tongue licking a strip all the way up his length. “ _Fuck_...”

“How did we get here from tickling each other and messing around?” Armin asks curiously before wrapping his hand around the thick hot cock and lightly sucking at the tip.

“Thing is,” Jean sighs, “I can’t stop myself when it comes to you. I have to have you. I see you, and get so riled up, and hot all over. And then-“ He suddenly hisses and bucks his hips up towards Armin when he envelops the head with his mouth. “Oh baby...”

Armin gives a quiet sound of pleasure, a high pitched sigh in the back of his throat as he starts to suck on the man’s thick penis, wanting more and more of the salty essence that’s bitter against his tongue. He begins to suck harder, drinking up every drop of pre that Jean can muster while he buries the tip of his tongue into the sensitive slit and forces a sharp gasp from Jean.

“Ah- _ah!_ ” he moans, hips quivering beyond his control as he runs his hands through blonde tresses. “ _Baby..._ Babyboy-“

Armin knows what he’s doing. He can be so cunning and sneaky. There’s a dark and scarily intelligent place in that brilliant mind of his, somewhere Jean has only ever seen twice. It seems to be surfacing now, considering he’s making Jean orgasm when he knows full well he’s nowhere near satisfied yet.

“Yes- _oh-_ ”

The smaller of the two begins to smile as he continues to suck on the tender head.

“ _Armin!_ ”

Jean arches his back and cries out suddenly, shakily attempting to pull Armin off of him, but to no avail. His whole body has turned to jelly, every single ounce of his being overwhelmed by a pleasure he didn’t know was possible.

“God,” the brunet pants, looking up to watch the boy gulping down the thick salty fluid. “W... why?”

“I needed to see you come,” Armin says quietly. Jean’s noticed that Armin’s been touching himself too for all of this time, thin fingers gripping his own erection to the point of fluid slowly oozing down and wetting the sheets.

“But what about you?” Jean asks.

“What do you mean, what about me? I’ll get myself off.”

“No.”

Armin looks up, a tad wide-eyed. “Why not?”

The taller extends a hand towards the blonde’s face and runs it down his cheek lovingly. “Because I know you struggle to make yourself orgasm.”

“But what can you do?” Armin says sadly. “You just came, and... you know, it’s gonna be a little while before you can really do anything to me. Unless you, um-“

“No,” Jean says lovingly. “No, baby, I’m not gonna use my mouth if that’s what you’re thinking. You need something more intimate. I’m going to get inside you.” A lustful smile dawns on Jean’s face. “Deep inside you.”

* * *

“I don’t understand. I thought you needed to rest for a while.”

“Not with you,” Jean admits. “You might call me a creep, but I start getting hard just from seeing your face.” His soft hand lightly grazes the boy’s shoulder and runs down his arm. “From seeing those big blue eyes that want me so badly.”

“Mmm...” Armin’s closing his eyes, becoming both relaxed and aroused from the way Jean’s talking to him like this, from the way he always takes such amazing care of him.

“On your front, sweetheart.”

“Hah...” Armin gladly obeys, feeling warm and contented all over. He lays down against the soft blanket and raises his hips, baring that gorgeous, curvaceous backside to Jean. The latter is practically drooling, his cock already as hard as it could physically be as he takes a good look at him, as he really admires the slim and muscular body that’s presented to him.

“Just wait a sec,” Jean says gently, reaching into the drawer under the bed for the lubricant. His cock is so slick and wet that he’s almost convinced he won’t need any, the clear fluid steadily dripping onto the blanket. But he applies it anyway, surprised by just how wet his length already is when he runs his hand over it.

“ _Jean_.”

“I won’t be a minute,” he assures him. “I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

Armin gives a little scoff before he feels a hand against his back. He can feel that pressure then, the one he knows so well, that hard, hot pressure that has him nervous at one point and then ecstatic the next.

The truth is, Armin is always nervous about sex. He’s always scared he won’t be good enough, that it’ll hurt when he enters him, that he’ll have to ask him to stop and let him down. Every single intimate moment between them is always wonderful, but that doesn’t stop his anxiety, and Jean can always see this.

“Relax, baby.”

“Uh...”

“Relax. Don’t tense up like that.”

“Okay.”

“Just tell me if you need me to stop or be more gentle, Armin. I’m always going to be kind to you.”

The young man nods as Jean penetrates him again, this time sinking the wet head past the tight ring of muscle. Armin gasps as he feels it brushing against his inner walls, stretching out his muscles beyond their usual capacity.

“Mmm,” he vocalises, gripping the pillow tightly.

“Does that feel okay?” Jean asks, concerned. It’s not always that Armin’s this anxious, but when he is, it’s Jean’s job to make sure he’s okay with the situation.

“I-it feels good,” Armin says quietly, closing his eyes again. “You can go in further.”

And so he does just that, sinking into the delicious heat. It’s a hotness so intense that it’s almost too much, a kind of heat that seems unique to Armin. Jean can feel the muscles clenching down on his cock, the warmth from his lover’s body spreading all throughout him.

Armin gives a whine when he bottoms out, but quickly reassures him that it’s not one of pain. In fact, knowing that Jean’s completely submerged his organ into him is making him all the more excited.

“Jean... move, please,” Armin begs, screwing his eyes tightly shut.

Jean pulls out before thrusting into him again at full force, slamming the head right into that patch of nerves inside. Armin lets a loud sob escape his throat as the bed creaks beneath them, each hit to his sweet spot sending almost unbearable pleasure all throughout his lower half. He can feel himself trembling, can hear himself whining and gasping, but he can’t stop no matter how hard he tries.

The taller looks down and suddenly moans loudly when he sees just how well Armin’s taking him, when he sees how relaxed he’s become. He slides in so easily despite the tightness, his tip pushing against the spot that he knows drives Armin wild, that he knows makes him feel so elated and cherished.

Jean knows he needs to slow down. He doesn’t want either of them to come yet, but the ecstasy is too delicious for him to falter.

“Jean!” Armin suddenly screams, fists clutching at the sheets. “Jean, I’m coming-! I’m going to- I need to...”

“Go on,” Jean pants, still thrusting as hard as he can. “Let me hear you cry.”

“I-I don’t... I don’t want to,” Armin says shakily. “I... I want you to keep f-fucking me, Jean...”

“And why’s that, my love?” Jean says, his voice barely a hiss of his breath as a droplet of sweat rolls down beside his temple.

“Because it feels s-so good!” Armin sobs, and his admittance of the fact seems to throw him over the edge without warning. He raises his body and comes hard with one more thrust into his prostate, his seed spilling out onto the bed, the only things he can process being his own intense pleasure and the sound of Jean hissing and groaning behind him as he reaches his own orgasm.

Armin gives a gasp of surprise when Jean tackles him forwards, filling him up from behind. He wraps his arms right around the blonde as he orgasms, breathing heavily and shakily, still trembling from the feeling of Armin contracting around him.

Jean gives one last groan before pushing the shorter man back down onto the sheets, both bodies tangled in a sweaty, gasping heap. They lay there for a good few minutes, letting the sweat cool off their bodies and getting their breath back.

“Oh, my,” Armin says.

“That was, um,” Jean begins, grinning. “That was good.”

He lowers his golden eyes and looks Armin up and down, making the latter blush once again. “Stop staring!” he hisses, grabbing a pillow and using it to cover his modesty. “And... we really ought to clean up, you know?”

Jean begins to laugh. “Stop staring?” he repeats. “We just had sex! Why are you embarrassed all of a sudden?”

Armin frowns and shakes his head. He won’t say it aloud, but even though he loves when Jean admires him, he can’t help but be conscious of the fact that he’s a little slimmer in physique than the rest of the soldiers.

“Let’s go take a shower,” he says shyly, smiling lightly. “It’s not hygienic to stay here like this.”

* * *

The water is a relief. It’s cool and runs down in little droplets, tickling them just like earlier when they’d sat around playing and laughing together.

Jean stands before his partner, dampening down the long hair and then coating it with shampoo, loving the feel of the wet soft strands between his fingers.

“I can do this myself, you know...”

“I know. Everyone can, but it sure is nice to have it done for you.”

Jean can sense Armin’s smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Jean. I just hate feeling like a burden.”

“You talk about being a burden and a pain a lot, don’t you?” He rinses down his hair before running the soapy sponge along the young man’s back and then his own. “A couple years ago I heard you say, “I won’t be a burden, even if it kills me”. Has anyone ever called you a burden?”

“No, but I’m certain they think it. Mikasa and Eren have always had to be there for me, all the time. And I’ve never had the chance to repay them even once...”

“I know. But in the meantime, focus on being kind towards others until the opportunity arises. If there’s one person who appreciates you a hell of a lot, it’s me.”

Jean doesn’t always realise that his words have some kind of impact, whether for the better or worse. Even so, they’re just one scratch against the surface that is Armin’s low self esteem, at this point being nowhere near enough to destroy the worries that loom over him. Maybe after several years, he’ll break him free from his shell.

“Thank you, Jean. I just... feel like our relationship is so one-sided. You always comfort me. We usually only have sex because I’m the one who needs a release. You’re always there for me and I’m never there for you. I’m the worst person in the whole world...”

“Hey, stop,” Jean tells him, wrapping a large towel around them both. “Armin, I initiated what we did earlier by asking if I could touch you! God, there are so many things I really need to tell you to make you feel better about yourself, but it’d take hours.”

“Tomorrow,” Armin says. “Not now. I could really go for some food right now. And rest.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do, angel.”

They pull on their clothes, Armin’s wet hair dripping along the bathroom floor and leaving trails of cold water down his neck and back. It makes him shudder, but it’s a relief in the summer, and makes him want to sigh with relaxation.

When they open the door to the mess hall, they join their friends for dinner, both sneakily exchanging glances and smiles with the knowledge of what had occurred in their room just 30 minutes earlier.


	55. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly how I’d imagine them writing to eachother during times in which they’d be apart.

To Armin,

First of all I need to say that I really, really hope this hasn’t reached anybody other than you, purely because that would be embarrassing.

That aside, how have you been? What are you doing at the moment? Our squad has been worked to the bone, but at least we get fed properly. I never want to eat potato stew ever again after having it almost every night back in the barracks.

The work here isn’t hard, there’s just far too much of it for such a small number of people. The amount of tasks I’m assigned each day is usually more than I can count, and by nightfall all I have time for is sleep. I sure hope you’re not as overworked as I am. I sacrificed half an hour of sleep to write this.

I’m going to be stopping by Karanes soon. I have no idea whereabouts you are, but if you can let me know within ten days, I’ll come look for you. It has been way too long, and I’m craving a big hug from you, if not more.

⁃ Jean

* * *

Hey Jean-boy (sorry),

I’m a lot better than I thought I’d be at this point in my life. The lack of titans are obviously helpful, but I’m missing you and my friends a _lot_. We sent a bunch of people to explore all the way up to the coastal area and nobody has come back yet. We’re all worried. Not to mention the number of soldiers we sent to Marley. It seemed like a bad idea to me.

I will say that I’m still extremely anxious about the fact that I’m a titan now. It’s not easy to turn into one, and much less easy to control it without destroying everything in sight. But other than that, I’m doing just fine, and I’m happy to hear you’re alright too.

Me and my squad are staying in a large building just to the South of Karanes District. I don’t know the area well, but it’s very dense and overgrown, so if I hear anything else I’ll let you know. I don’t get to go outside much now. People have recognised that I’m most useful behind the scenes telling others what the best course of action is. That and I know how to fix equipment faster than everyone else here.

Oh, and don’t worry about anyone else reading these letters. It’s illegal to read other people’s mail, and you know how scary the law gets in our society. That’s why I can confidently write down that I love you, and miss you.

⁃ Armin

* * *

To my baby,

Sorry I couldn’t respond for a whole month, and I’m really sorry I never got to see you. I’ll do my best to make it work next time. I’ll ask around about whereabouts you are and come visit you when I have a day off. Even if the journey is a good four hours by carriage, it’ll be worth every second and every penny.

So happy to hear you’re okay with what you’re doing at the moment. I’m not so bad myself, just a bit down. I don’t have anything to look forward to when you’re not around. That and I’m scared about what we’re preparing for in a few years’ time. I don’t care that we have excellent technology, we’re still going to be infiltrating an entire empire.

Now you may laugh at this, but I kiss every letter you send me. Strange maybe, but it’s the closest I can get to actually having the physical contact with you that we both crave. When we meet again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself. I might end up pouncing on you and taking you then and there. Just a little warning because I know you probably wouldn’t want that.

I love you so much, Armin. Whatever you do, keep yourself safe.

⁃ Jean

* * *

Jean,

You don’t need to worry about self restraint. I’d be more than flattered if you just came over here and littered me with affection. In fact, I’m more concerned that I’ll be the one who ends up coming onto you.

And it’s okay, I’m safe. I rarely ever have to do anything that would involve risking my life anymore, and while I’m glad of that, I can’t help feeling that it’s not fair on the others who we’ve sent to Marley that haven’t returned. It isn’t right.

That thing about you kissing my letters isn’t weird. Every night when I’m in bed I snuggle up to my duvet pretending it’s you. It hardly compares to having you really there, of course, but I can fantasise and tell myself that you’re lying next to me. What makes me the most frustrated is not hearing your voice and the lack of intimacy. Reading letters is nothing like having a deep, heartfelt conversation, but I suppose it helps.

I don’t know how long it will be until we can properly meet again. I feel like kicking myself knowing we could have met up last month, but it’s nobody’s fault, really. Just bad luck, I suppose. Even if it’s years, I’ll wait as patiently as I can, because it’s what I’m living for.

Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble, Jean? I know I sound like a mother, but I just felt like I had to write that no matter what. I don’t care what else happens, just keep yourself out of any danger. The world is cruel even without those giant man-eating monsters.

⁃ Armin


	56. Tact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty angsty :D

Jean shakes his head. “There was nothing that could have been done if what you’ve told me is true.”

“What?” Armin gasps. “There was so much more I could have done!”

“How?”

“When Thomas was in its mouth, I-I just stood there... we all did. When one of them got Mina by tugging on the wire from her gear, I didn’t stop and help. I kept going because I didn’t know what to do and...” His voice trails off into nothing. He looks terrified, as if he’s reliving the moment in his head.

“But you weren’t the only one who didn’t know what to do when it happened to Thomas, right? Nobody knew what to do, did they?” Jean’s voice sounds serious and deeper than usual, almost panicked.

“That doesn’t excuse it. And it _really_ doesn’t excuse what happened with Eren. I, I was-“ He lowers his head in shame, long hair falling in front of his eyes. “I was frozen to the spot in fear.”

“That was out of your control. You’re....” Jean fidgets uncomfortably. “You know, Armin, I don’t... um.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to put this... you seem like less of a soldier than the rest of- no, I’m sorry, that was mean. You’re just a little, I don’t know, a little more scared? You’re talented, honestly, you are! You have achieved so many things, more than I can count. It’s just... you’re not all that... um, strong.”

He looks up, expecting Armin to be insulted, but he’s nodding his head in agreement. “I know, Jean. I accept that. I’m still ashamed that I watched my friends die.”

“Why?” Jean feels like the words are spilling beyond control. How can he ask why Armin’s upset about seeing people die?! 

“What do you mean, why?! They lost their only chance at life! They died so young! Are you seriously asking why I felt awful seeing them get eaten alive?”

“Uh... m-maybe you could have done something?” Jean’s scratching his head awkwardly, feeling as if he’s saying the wrong thing. It’s hard when Armin’s like this, feeling like he hates everything about himself.

“Yeah, maybe I could. Now you admit it. Just say it, Jean. I’m not useful around here.”

“No, you are!” Jean says sadly, feeling awful through and through. “Don’t say that, please. You may be a coward but-“ He bites his lip. “S-sorry... you’re not, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Armin’s staring up at him, blue eyes glistening. He looks livid.

Jean’s filled with a sickening feeling, one of guilt and dread. He gently lowers a hand towards his face, attempting to cup his cheek. “Oh baby I’m sorry...”

“No you’re not.” Armin smacks his hand away.

“Hey-“

“You’re no different from the people I used to know back in Shiganshina, are you?” Armin says, looking shocked. “You used that word, the one I never wanted to hear ever again. _Coward._ It makes me want to jump off a bridge. Maybe then I won’t be a coward.”

Jean suddenly narrows his eyes at him and grabs him by his sleeve, tugging him towards him. “And that would be my fault, wouldn’t it?” he snarls.

“Yes it would, you heartless fucking jerk.”

“Why do you dwell on _everything?_ Why come to me just to piss and moan about your squad dying when I wasn’t even there?”

“Because I wanted to talk to someone who would make me feel better!” Armin sobs, before striking Jean across the head and leaving the room.

* * *

Armin’s avoiding him. He’s trying not to make it obvious, but Jean knows him so well that he just _knows_. Armin’s been deliberately turning up later to the mess hall so that Jean will already be there and he can sit somewhere else. He showers half an hour earlier than everyone else so he won’t even have to make eye contact with him across the stalls. He’s been going to bed later, sitting outside the barracks by himself until he’s certain Jean will be in bed.

It’s been four days and Jean’s starting to worry this’ll be forever.

He’s never been much good at making amends. He’s a good guy, but he’s not like Armin, always knowing what to say and do, always knowing how to act.

 _How do I do it?_ Jean asks himself. _Do I just go up to him and tell him I’m sorry? Should I wait for him to come to me? Or should I let it happen naturally, and wait for us to bump into eachother?_

He misses Armin’s soft hugs and warm smile. He misses holding him, watching him stand on his tip toes to press his soft lips to his. He misses the taste of him, the heat of his kisses, his sweet presence. It’s been just four days and already he can’t stand it.

Jean can’t believe he actually came out and called Armin a coward. He knew it would hurt him and he knew it wasn’t true. He isn’t surprised that he reacted in the way he did. Sometimes he forgets that Armin spent the first years of his life being harassed by other kids in the neighbourhood.

_Why am I such a fucking asshole to every goddamn person I meet?_

* * *

He decides to let the situation run its course, but it hurts seeing Armin chatting to his friends all while he ignores Jean.

But after about a week, he wakes up an hour early.

He’s wide awake on five hours’ sleep. Today’s schedule is a lot more lax than it’s been recently. _Eh,_ he thinks, sitting up. _Who needs sleep._

It’s 4am. He knows Armin will get up soon, earlier than everyone else’s 5am start. He’ll head to the showers for twenty minutes, then come and sleep a little longer. It’s Jean’s chance.

A few minutes later, he hears a pair of quiet footsteps in the dark. He knows it’s Armin. He’s a lot lighter than the other taller, heavier male soldiers. A door quietly opens and closes, and it’s silent once again.

 _Do I follow him?_ Jean wonders, eyes peeking out at the top of the blanket. _What if it’s somebody else? What if I go in there and we end up fighting? Or worse... what if I walk in on him undressing or something and he gets upset?_

 _Fuck it,_ he thinks, springing up out of bed and quickly regretting it when his foot smacks loudly against the wood. He hisses loudly in pain, feeling like this is a sign that what he’s about to do will go terribly. Bertolt groans at the noise and shifts in his sleep, and Jean freezes with apprehension until he settles down again.

He feels around for the door handle, and when he enters, he winces at the bright lantern on the ceiling after being in the dark for so long. Armin is stood in the shower stall to the far right, staring up at the window near the ceiling as if lost in thought while the water runs the suds all over his body. He doesn’t seem to notice that anyone has entered.

Jean watches him. He knows he’d get caught if Armin was to turn his head even just a little, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He wants to wander over and touch him on the shoulder, gently get his attention, tell him he’s sorry for hurting him, but that’d probably seem creepy considering he’s standing there naked with just a wooden board between them.

Then, to his surprise, Armin raises his right arm and tears off a bandage to reveal a large gash across his upper arm. He whimpers at the pain, cringing a little at the way the pressure of the water causes it to bleed again, washing away the scab that had formed. Diluted trails of blood wash down the drain, and Armin sighs, seemingly annoyed.

Jean’s surprised to see such a big injury on him. It looks deep, and it’s huge. It’s the kind of thing Armin normally would have told him about.

Feeling a little isolated somehow, he quickly strips down and wanders into a stall just one away from Armin as nonchalantly as he can. Jean keeps his eyes down, trying to make it look as if he’s going about his business as usual, when he hears a voice.

“Jean?!”

Jean freezes, just standing there and letting the water run. He hadn’t expected Armin to notice him before he made the first move.

“I...” Armin’s not tall enough to properly look over the stall and Jean’s a little amused by it. “Why are you here this early? Did you follow me?”

“N-no!” Jean tells him, and he’s not exactly _lying_. He had just happened to wake up early, and he knew he had to make amends at some point.

Armin turns off the water and stands on his tiptoes, suddenly seeming worried. “Did you...?”

Jean doesn’t have to ask. “I did,” he responds quietly, also turning off the water.

Armin shrinks back. “S-sorry... usually I’d tell you about something like that.” His cheeks are a little pink, perhaps with shame. “I know it’s a big cut. I hadn’t noticed anyone had come in. You were really quiet.”

“I’ll put a new bandage on you,” Jean insists.

“You don’t have to.” Armin suddenly rolls his eyes. “Cowards need to learn to fend for themselves, don’t they?”

Jean almost wants to cry at this point. “I came here to say sorry about that,” he says sadly. “I’m really sorry, Armin. I’m still surprised myself that I went and called you something that I know you’re sensitive about.”

Armin looks at him as he wraps a towel around himself and exits the stall. To Jean’s surprise, he has a look of love in his eyes, but it’s nothing new: he’s had this look on his face all this time that they hadn’t been talking, all this time when both young men were too afraid to approach the other.

“I love you Jean.”

“Ah...” Jean’s barely finished showering, but he exits anyway, wrapping himself in a towel and standing beside Armin. “But I can be such an asshole...”

“You can,” Armin admits. “And I can hold grudges, too. If I was more mature than you, I wouldn’t have kept quiet all week.”

Jean can’t believe this is going as well as it is, but he shouldn’t be surprised: this is Armin Arlert, the kindest boy he’s ever met. “Shit,” Jean whispers, reaching out to hug Armin tightly. “Angel, I love you. I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Armin, you have never been a coward, or incapable, or anything that I told you last week. Oh my god, Armin. I love you, so, so much.”

They stay standing in an embrace for a little while, neither bothered by eachother’s dripping hair and damp skin.

* * *

Armin looks at Jean for a long while. He’s not sure of what to say other than that he feels terrible about hitting him.

“I can’t believe I laid my hand on you.”

“I asked for it,” Jean says, grinning awkwardly.

“You did, kinda. But still, that’s the first time I’ve ever hit anyone out of aggression. I never used to fight back against the bullies.”

“Because you’re an angel,” Jean tells him, stroking his cheek lovingly.

Armin sighs, relieved that Jean’s not mad anymore.

“Did it hurt?”

“It did.”

“I’m so sorry, Jean.”

“I’m sorry, Armin.”

“That’s the first time we’ve fought, isn’t it? Me and Eren rarely used to fight. And when we did, Mikasa broke it up.”

“I used to fight with the other kids back at home,” Jean says quietly. “A lot more than you’ve ever fought. You’re so gentle. I _asked_ for a whack to the head by calling you what I already knew hurts you the most. I don’t know what came over me.”

Armin squeezes his hand, smiling. “It’s over,” he says kindly, tugging his clothes on. “Come on... the sun’s probably coming up soon. We should go back to sleep for a little while if we can.”

“Lay with me,” Jean offers. “I need to make up for the fact that I’ve not been able to hold you all week. Let me hold you now. Let me show you love.”

They quietly wander back to Jean’s bed, hand-in-hand, blushing in the dark. Everyone else is still asleep, but a few boys are stirring, their bodies obviously used to getting up at the same time everyday.

Armin pulls the blanket over them both. It’s not very thick, and it’s quite scratchy, but it does its job of sheltering them from the world to leave them to eachother’s presence.

“My bed has felt so cold and empty every night without you, Armin.”

Jean makes the most of him while he can. They’ll have to get up soon, in about twenty minutes or so. He presses several kisses to him, running his fingers over warm, smooth skin, burying his face into the unique scent that he knows so well now.

“I’ll never hit you again, Jean. Even if you get angry. Even if I get angry. Even if you call me things that I hate, I won’t hurt you. I’ll only love you from now on.”


	57. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Armin Arlert receives the ecstasy he deserves.

Jean knows how to put Armin on edge. It’s so easy to rile the boy up, to flood him with arousal and anticipation all at once.

He’d leant towards him during a meeting earlier, whispering in his ear that there was something he wanted to try later. And Armin had shuddered, pressing his thighs together to relieve some of the tension and arousal within him. He’d watched with agitation as Jean had sat beside him with a cheeky grin on his face, obviously loving the fact that he could excite his lover with nothing more than simple words.

They walk to their room, seemingly as calm as can be, appearing completely relaxed and collected from the outside. Not a single person around them would be able to sense any kind of significant emotion.

And then as soon as they enter their room and lock the door, Jean’s all over him, panting heatedly as he grabs a fistful of the boy’s ass, the two stood in front of a mirror so that the gorgeous blonde angel can see just how adorable he is.

“Baby,” Jean moans, pressing wet kisses on his lover’s neck, hands exploring every inch they can find. They gently snake up his top and begin to rub against his nipples, eliciting a whine from the smaller’s mouth.

“Mmm... Jean.”

“Yeah?” he whispers, a hand tucking itself beneath Armin’s clothes to place itself over his hardening cock.

“About what you said earlier... what were you talking about?”

“Oh, that.” Jean doesn’t stop touching him, intent on making the man he loves the most in this world feel amazing. “Wait a sec. You’ll see.”

He tugs him over to a small desk just by a window, late afternoon sunshine penetrating through the curtains.

“Bend over,” Jean tells him, his face a little flushed with desire.

Armin looks at him, slightly puzzled, but obeys anyway. He trusts Jean, always trusts that he’ll please him to the best of his ability.

He feels his trousers and underwear being tugged down to his ankles, the lower half of his body now completely naked and exposed to Jean’s eyes. He feels himself blush, either with embarrassment from the knowledge that his intimate parts are exposed - Armin’s always been shy and never much of an exhibitionist at all - or with arousal and neediness. He can’t tell which.

“Bend over a little further,” Jean tells him gently, lovingly. Armin can hear the genuine care and love in his voice. He’s always so patient when it comes to sex, so kind and understanding when Armin’s apprehensive and on edge. “It’s alright, baby. You’re gonna love this so much, sweetheart.”

“Ngh...” Armin rests his arms and stomach on the firm mahogany and raises his backside, his soft curves and tight hole presented before Jean. He looks so delicious in this lighting, with his long yellow locks splayed out across the wood, his narrow body trembling with arousal.

“God,” Jean whispers, running his hands along soft, creamy white thighs as he gazes right at his partner’s perfect ass, the sight of his slightly bony but shapely hips sending what felt like gallons of blood to his already solid cock.

“Just keep still for me for a sec, alright?”

Armin nods in anticipation, closing his eyes. He doesn’t quite know what Jean’s planning on doing.

Then he feels a hot, wet tongue licking a stripe from the bottom to the top of his sensitive hole.

“Ah-AH!” Armin vocalises, almost jumping with surprise. “ _Jean?!_ Wh-what are you doing?”

“Eating you out,” Jean tells him, smirking as he licks across his tender skin once again. He feels Armin quiver with what seems to be a cross between pleasure and anxiety.

“That’s... that’s so... it feels weird... and dirty...”

“Do you like it?” Jean asks, stopping and raising his head to check that he wants this.

“I like it,” Armin admits in a small voice, dark pink patches accentuating the soft skin of his cheeks. He props himself up on his elbows, his knees weak from the pleasure that just shot right through him. “But it feels dirty. You’ve never licked me there before. I don’t know... it feels nice, but also weird.”

“Do you want me to stop? It might feel better once you get used to it.”

“No, don’t stop. It’s okay, you can try it again. I do like it.”

“Good,” Jean whispers caringly, pressing a line of kisses against the boy’s back before gently spreading apart his cheeks and licking him where he just knows he’s _so_ sensitive.

A sudden, unexpected moan slips from Armin’s throat, breaking the silence. It’s loud and provocative, and so filthy that Jean quietly moans at it in response. Something about that one sudden sound of pleasure is so goddamn dirty and hot, so naughty, so sinful that Jean can already feel heat coiling in his gut.

“Mmn,” Armin quietly whines when Jean presses the tip of his tongue against his entrance. He manages to breach it despite the small amount of resistance, the wet muscle carefully sliding into him and making Armin shiver. It feels foreign, but it’s good.

The little blonde grips the edge of the table nearest to his hands, arms extended across the surface. His nails dig into it a little tighter each time Jean presses his tongue into him, just centimetres away from his prostate. And then he’s pulling it out of him again, proceeding to lick and suck against the boy’s hole, lapping up every patch of skin within his reach.

“Yes,” Armin wheezes quietly. He’s completely taken aback by the new sensations inside of him. His legs feel weak, almost turning to jelly each time Jean squeezes his fleshy globes and licks along his delicate entrance.

Jean exhales a breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding.

“Do you feel good, angel?”

“Yes,” Armin whispers, only just now managing to steady his quivering, weakened knees. The feeling is almost too much, too heavy, and it’s making him tremble and whine beyond his control.

“What’s it like for you when I push my tongue into you?”

Armin lowers his head, a little embarrassed about how much he’s enjoying this. “It’s... orgasmic.”

Jean giggles, proud of the fact that he can show such amazing love to the man he adores. “Is it pleasurable for you, Armin? Does it make you want to come?”

“Nngh!” Armin moans, getting unbearably turned on by Jean’s provocative questions. “C-crap! Jean, I can’t do this, just... just get your head down there and lick me, please!” He’s on the verge of tears. “Please, it feels so good!”

Jean gives a light laugh, loving his sudden eagerness. “You were a blushing mess just a few minutes ago.”

Armin groans. “I know... I don’t care, just eat me out please I can’t wait any longer I need you to please-“

A sharp and high gasp interrupts his pleading when Jean’s tongue makes contact with him yet again, this time licking gentle circles around his tender hole with the tip. It almost tickles, and Armin’s a writhing, sobbing mess within seconds.

“I think I’ve found your weakness, haven’t I?” Jean says, his hot breath only causing the blonde to wail louder.

“Shush! J-just-“ Armin’s so close, but he doesn’t want to come, he wants to stand here for hours with Jean pleasuring him so beautifully. “Just... _don’t stop please_ -“

And all of a sudden, he’s overcome with that familiar kind of heat he knows so well by now, the one that Jean is so adept at bringing him. Except it’s a lot more intense this time, the pleasure of his own semen being expelled from his cock forcing his back to arch and his mouth to open wide, releasing a long but quiet cry that he’s not even aware of.

* * *

It seems to be quite a bit darker outside than what Armin remembered. He starts to feel anxious, worried about the fact that he lost track of the time.

“It’s only 7 o’clock,” Jean reassures him, hands wrapped around his still-bare waist.

“Ah...” Armin sighs, seemingly contented as he pulls his clothes back on. “I need to clean this up.”

“I’ll clean it,” Jean offers. “You go lie down, okay? You look pretty tired to me. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You go and rest, my love.”

Armin wanders over to the bed and falls straight onto it, almost closing his eyes. He peeks through half-shut lids, watching Jean as he wipes down the table and throws the tissue into the bin.

The taller walks over to him before lifting up the blanket and hoisting them both into bed. “Just a little nap,” Jean tells him, when Armin appears apprehensive.

“We might not wake up until morning.”

“It’s okay, baby.” The brunet snuggles up to him, wrapping his arms around the soft boy, absolutely loving the feel of him being safely tucked in bed with him like this. Armin’s always so warm and enticing. He can’t resist him.

“I’m sorry about being nervous at first.”

“Hmm?”

“When you were, um, doing that thing to me earlier. It felt really nice. I was just nervous because it felt different, and kind of dirty.”

Jean presses a loving kiss to the young man’s fringe. “Don’t ever apologise for being nervous, baby. I’m here to take care of you, always. I’ll always make you happy, okay?”

“Ahh,” Armin sighs, obviously becoming relaxed.

“Angel, whenever we try anything new from now on, I’ll go even slower than I did today. I’ll make sure I look after you.”

“Jean,” Armin whispers, blue eyes glistening.

“Yeah?”

“I feel like I don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.”


	58. Lips Like Flower Petals

He has to return the favour. Well, he doesn’t _have_ to, but he wants to. Oh _god_ does he want to.

Jean seems a little more closed off than Armin does, in some ways. He’s not the type to just submit to carnal desires. Usually he’s the initiator, taking pleasure in pleasing another. He doesn’t usually seem to want to receive, only wants to give: as long as it’ll benefit him too, of course.

And it’s relevant in other aspects, too. Jean’s not selfless - one could describe him as self-invested at best and inelegantly egotistical at worst - but something about him wants to _give_ , to do things to and for others. He doesn’t laugh, he makes other people laugh. He doesn’t join fights, he begins them. He doesn’t get taken control of, he takes control himself.

Armin would like to see what would happen if Jean was to receive rather than give.

* * *

He wakes up hard. He often does, for reasons he can’t wrap his head around. He doubts it’s anything to do with arousal, because he’d certainly remember if he had an erotic dream. Sometimes it just... happens.

Armin turns over in bed, bumping into Jean. He’d been lying just centimetres away from him, almost as though they’d been unconsciously drawn to eachother’s heat. The taller of the two groans, still half asleep, and unconsciously pulls the duvet towards himself and away from Armin. Armin quickly grabs it and starts to pull it back, resulting in a slightly panicked and very brief game of tug-of-war before Jean wakes up and remembers he’s not alone in his bed.

“Oh,” he says, sitting upright and scratching his head, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I hope you weren’t sleeping like that,” Jean says, wrapping his hand around the blonde’s waist and holding him close. “It’s not exactly warm. And...” He looks down, surprised at the very noticeable prominent bulge on the young man’s crotch. “Oh... wow.”

Armin laughs silently, air escaping his nostrils with amusement. “I know,” he says. “I don’t know what causes that kind of thing.”

“You mean morning wood?”

“I guess so. Is that what they call it?”

“Well, that’s what I call it.” Jean leans even closer and starts to gently kiss his partner, their lips barely even making contact. “Want me to touch it?”

Armin suddenly feels shy, almost not wanting to admit that he’s getting seriously turned on. “Well,” he says quietly, “there was something else I kind of wanted to do.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Armin says. “And I think I really need to repay you for all the times you’ve made me feel wonderful.”

“I don’t need repaying. I do it because I love doing it,” Jean tells him, holding him close and nuzzling his hair lovingly. “Hearing the sweet sounds you make when I’m touching you is the biggest reward I could ask for.”

“I know, but I just really want to do things to you that you always do to me. Like when you push me down onto the bed and kiss and lick me all over until I literally can’t control myself. I want to see you come apart like I do.”

“Would you fuck me?” Jean asks.

“You know I would. I’ve already done that before, but I don’t think I was very good. That’s why I haven’t done it since.”

“You were brilliant,” Jean tells him, eyes wide in surprise at his partner’s self consciousness.

Armin shifts a little under the blanket, burying himself further beneath it until just his eyes are visible, which stare up at Jean.

“I do prefer receiving rather than giving, but it felt really good when I was inside you,” Armin admits. “I want to give, you know? Even just for once.” He lowers his arm and presses his hand against his hardened cock, rubbing it gently. He lets out an audible breath, tucking his hand beneath his clothing and pulling out his erection, which is swollen and red at the tip with arousal.

“I’ll do it, if you want,” Armin says quietly, stroking himself beneath the duvet. Jean glances over and notices the small but sharp movements of his arm below, and suddenly moans out loud, loving the thought of Armin touching himself to get himself harder.

“Not yet,” Jean whispers, wrapping his arms around the blonde and pressing his face to the boy’s neck, loving the soft heat against his lips. “Not right now. But I want you to touch me. All over. Like what I’ve always done to you.”

He feels Armin grin, still stroking himself, but a little less aggressively this time. “See?” Armin giggles. “I know you’ve been curious to see what it’s like. I wanna get all over you, you know? Kiss you all over, touch you all over.”

Jean groans provocatively, suddenly taking Armin by the hips and lifting him so that he’s knelt above him, his penis still out of his clothing and brushing gently against the brunet’s bare thigh. “Baby,” he whispers to him, tugging him close and burying his hands in a forest of fair hair. “Baby, come on, I gotta get these clothes off you.”

“Wait, y-you’re the one who needs to be naked if I’m the one who’s gonna be pleasuring you,” Armin laughs.

“Oh, angel, _fuck_ , I know. But _god_ , I need you naked, here on top of me. I need the skin-to-skin contact. I need to put my hands on you. I need to see the parts of you that you never show anyone else.”

Armin gasps quietly, starting to feel sensitive and weak as he grows more and more turned on. He starts to imagine his own naked body looming over his lover’s, hands on Jean’s flat, toned stomach while he carefully sucks against his nipples, listening to his uncontrolled moans and gasps and-

“Hah!” His thoughts get the better of him and Armin gives a high, breathy moan, suddenly raising his arms to tug off his and Jean’s shirts, shivering slightly at the cold air that nips against his skin while the duvet keeps the lower half of his body warm. They’re both so eager to strip down that Armin gets his leg stuck in his trousers somehow, the two of them giggling at his physical awkwardness even in a moment like this.

Jean’s so hot all over. He’s hot on the inside and out, with this beautiful man above him, sitting upright and pushing the duvet back to run his soft hands all over him. Armin gently pins Jean’s wrists to the bed before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around one of the delicate buds on his chest.

Jean shudders. He’s never been touched there before, probably not even by himself; let alone anybody’s mouth.

“Ah,” he whispers when Armin begins to suck against his nipple, the tip of his tongue brushing it just right. It feels electric, like something hot and sharp shooting right up his spine, tingling and dazzling.

The hot wetness is soon removed, and Jean almost complains about it until Armin starts to kiss every square inch of his abdomen while his index fingers and thumbs continue to tweak and lightly pinch the sensitive nubs on his chest.

_Holy fuck._

Jean’s completely vulnerable. He’s laid down on his back, trying to keep still, his mouth parted as audible breaths escape every time Armin sucks a pale mark onto his flesh. He didn’t know it’d be like this. He didn’t know he’d be gasping beyond his control.

_Is this how Armin feels when I do the same to him?_

It’s so goddamn hot. Something about the way Armin’s carefully manoeuvring around all his sensitive areas keeps him constantly on edge. He wants to will him to get his head down there and lick him dry, but the kissing and teasing in and of itself is making him euphoric.

“Armin,” Jean whimpers.

The boy lifts his head up, concerned. “Yeah?”

Jean’s hand moves by itself, overcoming Armin’s grip on his wrist to clasp itself around his partner’s lower arm. “Touch me,” he whispers, pulling the limb towards his stiff cock. It’s so hard that it’s almost standing perfectly vertical, the thick veins on the underside gently pulsing as he does his best to keep himself under control.

A gentle smile dawns on Armin’s face, but something about it is devious and slightly sinister.

“No,” he says, grinning, eyes wide in that slightly psychotic but oddly attractive state he gets into occasionally. “I’m gonna tease you until you can’t take anything more.”

The words send even more blood to Jean’s cock, almost making him dizzy.

Armin leans down again and presses his lips to the inside of the brunet’s thighs, sucking carefully and strategically with just the right amount of pressure. It forces Jean to tense up, his muscles contracting beneath Armin’s lips, hands finding their way into silky soft pale tresses of hair.

“Angel,” Jean whispers, loving how Armin’s kissing and sucking against his skin so erotically. “My angel.”

The blonde had no idea he was capable of bringing anyone this kind of pleasure.

He almost feels like he’s committing some kind of sin, some kind of boundary he wouldn’t normally cross. Armin’s fully aware that he’s done all manner of things before, done so many dirty things with his lover that he’s struggling to keep track. But this feels even more sinful, even more wonderful. The fact that he’s never really explored Jean’s body from head to toe is arousing, and it only urges him to tease further.

“Ngh!” Jean moans when the silky lips gently traverse towards his crotch, sucking and wetting the flesh beside his tender, solid cock.

Armin loves the idea of teasing, but he can’t help himself. He just _has_ to give in and wrap his fingers around the man’s huge member, his tongue giving the tip gentle licks all while he stares up seductively at Jean, doing everything in his power to drive him crazy.

“Baby,” the brunet whispers, so relaxed and happy.

“Mmm,” Armin responds absently, quietly. He doesn’t stop, licks all around his tender areas until Jean’s shivering, the stimulation almost too much for him to take. When Jean’s a gasping mess beneath him, he travels north and starts to suck gently against his nipple once again, all while his hand reaches down to gently pump along his cock.

“I’m gonna come, angel,” Jean warns him shakily.

He feels Armin smile against his skin. “Good.”

He begins to run his hand along him at a faster pace, growing even more aroused when he suddenly feels the organ stiffen beneath his touch, his essence wetting the underside of the blonde’s arm. It feels warm and wet against his skin, almost tickling him.

Jean shudders and sighs loudly as he comes, tensing all the muscles in his body. His orgasm feels so great, so wonderful. It’s a release, and an indescribable one at that.

Armin watches him, reaching over to the right to pull a tissue out of the box on the desk beside them. Watching Jean come apart - seeing him so weak and vulnerable in the midst of pure ecstasy - is almost enough to send Armin over the edge with little to no physical stimulation. The sight and sound of Jean gasping and tensing is so sweet to see, not short of beautiful and adorable.

“Uhngh,” he moans quietly after he calms down, shakily reaching out to Armin to grab a tissue.

“You look so good,” Armin compliments.

“W... what,” Jean murmurs, wiping himself down.

“You, Jean. You look good, laying here happily, beneath me. You look amazing.”

The taller grins in response, still taken aback by his climax. “Even though I’m covered in sweat and I need a shower?”

“Of course. Honestly, there has never been a time in which you haven’t looked good, but you look extra hot when you’re enjoying yourself.”

Jean laughs quietly, sitting up and tossing the tissue into the bin beneath the desk. “I’ve gone all weak,” he says, his body limp and barely responsive. “And we’re supposed to have a mock drill in Trost today.”

“I’ll team up with you,” Armin offers, laying down on top of Jean’s naked body, burying his face into the crook of his neck and tickling his skin with his long hair. “I may not be very athletic, but still.”

“Ah... yeah,” the brunet murmurs, closing his eyes and kissing the top of the blonde’s head.

It’s silent and peaceful, a stark contrast from the gasps and moans that had filled the room as of previous.

“You make me happier than anyone ever has before, Armin.”


	59. Perseverance, Resolution

Everyone knows, but nobody says a thing. He’s aware that everybody knows. He’s always been good at reading the atmosphere.

Jean knows, too, and that’s the worst part about it for Armin. He’s fine with his two best friends seeing him fall to the ground and hold everybody behind, because they’re used to his fragility and physical awkwardness. They’ve always been there through thick and thin. He knows these two like the back of his hand.

Jean, however, doesn’t. Neither does Reiner, the guy he’d always looked to for advice. The larger of the two blondes was strong inside and out, and knowing that he was watching him fail was making Armin tear up.

Jean’s still the worst one to be seeing this. It’s embarrassing, and he wants to run away and go back to bed, or just quit training altogether. He’d be separated from the only people he had left, but at least he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself anymore.

* * *

“Boots waterlogged, Arlert?” Shadis had asked him as the weight on his back slowed him down, the soaking mud pulling his feet downwards. _Damn it!_ he’d been thinking, both frustrated that he wasn’t strong enough to fight the weight on his back and embarrassed that he was behind almost everyone else. Reiner had grabbed the load off of him, giving him a chance to catch up, but to Armin, that was the equivalent of giving up entirely.

He was _not_ going to be a coward.

“I won’t be a burden to anyone, you hear me?” he’d said menacingly, running up to Reiner and tugging his load off of his back. It’s just as crushing as ever, and his heart is thumping so hard that he’s afraid it’ll give out from the strain, but he keeps going. The feeling of his pulse throbbing in his neck and the metallic taste in his mouth isn’t quite enough to distract him from the eyes of the others, which, in his mind, look down upon him with disdain.

He’s scared of looking like this, looking so inadequate in front of the cadet he’s been wanting to impress so badly.

The rain hinders his sight, and the muddy water is soaking his legs and feet, but his sheer determination still attempts to overpower everything altogether. This is especially true when he notices that Jean’s looking behind him, looking at Armin, watching him as he struggles. He looks sympathetic, and Armin hates it.

_I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me._

He dreams of Jean looking at him with surprise, with pride, with a light smile. Not the concerned eyes and the lowered brows, not the gentle frown of worry. He doesn’t want to be like this, the small, weak, fragile little boy who slows everyone down, who even Ymir wasn’t afraid to label as a loser.

He doesn’t want to feel labelled like this anymore.

* * *

It’s below freezing, and he’s training overtime. A few others are with him, almost all of them noticeably lacking muscle and weight, and yet even they seem to naturally have better endurance.

By the time he gets back inside the barracks, he can’t feel his hands and feet and dinner is over.

Armin’s actually pretty concerned about his health at this point. That’s nearly five days he’s gone without dinner, and already he’s losing a lot of weight. He doesn’t want to become any skinnier.

He stays upright on his bed, wrapping the duvet around himself, shivering. His eyes begin to sting with tears but he blinks them away. He wants to be invisible, wants to disappear, wants this to all be over. He doesn’t want to be a soldier - he’s not brave, he’s not strong, and he knows he’ll be eaten alive the moment he sets foot beyond the safety of the walls.

Someone taps his shoulder and he shies away, embarrassed.

“Hey. Armin, it’s me. It’s Eren.”

“Eren?” That’s good. It’s someone who’s used to him being such a fuck-up, someone who won’t judge.

He feels the bed dip down beside him, but there seems to be more weight than just that of one person.

Armin raises his head and is alarmed to see that it’s not Eren who’s sat beside him, but Jean. Eren’s sat on Jean’s left side, the two sitting together quietly for once.

“Oh, my god,” the blonde whispers, hiding his face. “I can’t do this right now. Please, I can’t face anyone, not after the amount of trouble I’ve caused.”

“You haven’t caused trouble,” Jean insists, reaching beside him and taking out a small bag of food he’d kept with him. “Look. I got you this. You haven’t been eating enough, and I was worried.”

Eren grins. “Wow, Jean. You did something charitable for a change.”

Jean scrunches his face up in annoyance, but doesn’t say anything. Armin peers into the brown paper bag. There’s a pastry inside, a piece of fruit, some cheese and crackers and a flask of water.

“Th... thank you,” Armin says, genuinely taken aback.

“It’s from lunch,” Jean admits, grinning. He scoots closer to Armin, hooking an arm around him in a friendly manner. “I snuck some extra. I can’t stand seeing you like this. You’re putting yourself through so much... and it makes me feel awful.”

“Why do you care?” Armin asks, before realising how rude that sounded.

“Because you’re a good person,” Jean says, leaning closer. Armin’s heart begins to pound almost as hard as it was while he was training earlier when he takes in the scent of Jean, the warm, slightly sweaty smell of him that competes against the sub zero temperatures outside. “And I want to make you happy.”

Eren starts to make a mock gagging noise, taking the piss out of them.

“Gross,” he says. “What next? Are you guys gonna kiss?”

“Stop it,” Armin warns him, knowing he’s jealous about someone else being close to his best friend. “If you don’t like it, go away.”

“Jean and Armin, sitting in the tree... K, I, S, S, I, N, G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the-“

“Eren, please _stop!_ ” Armin looks embarrassed. “How old are you, _ten?_ I know you’re just annoyed because I’ve made a friend who isn’t you.”

Eren pouts and folds his arms, facing the other way despite continuing to listen.

Jean exhales, glad he can speak his mind now without Suicidal Bastard trying to interrupt.

“I’m concerned about you. You’re always so quiet, and you’re too nice to everyone. I get upset whenever I see that you’re struggling.”

Armin smiles gratefully, lost for words until he thinks of a question.

“I’m just wondering, but why was it Eren who greeted me just now even though the both of you are here?”

“Because I thought you might freak out if you knew I was here too,” Jean replies. “I figured Eren’s the only person who would be able to get you out of this blanket.” He gestures to the duvet, at which point Armin grabs it and wraps himself in it.

“I need to get closer to you,” Armin acknowledges. “If Eren had said “Hey, Armin, it’s Eren and Jean”, I don’t think I would have wanted to talk.” He quickly adds, “N-no offence! I just meant that I’m shy in general, towards everyone. Not just you.”

Jean smirks, but it’s a friendly smirk, not a smug one. “Hey, I know you are. That’s why I wanna comfort you.”

“Gay,” Eren remarks.

“It’s called being friendly,” Jean retorts. “Something you should try out.”

“The way you’re all over my best friend is so gross,” the green-eyed boy says.

“The way _you’re_ so overprotective and obsessive about him is gross!” Jean exclaims.

Armin listens with amusement as they fight over him, wondering how he can make relationships other than the one he has with Eren work. He begins to laugh, long having forgotten his feelings of inadequacy from earlier, enjoying the way the two of them are overly insistent on trying to make him feel better.

“Hey, guys,” Armin giggles, stopping their little argument. “Look, I’m not gonna neglect one of you just by being friends with the other.”

“But Jean _loves_ you,” Eren says desperately. “He’s all over you! You might as well sit here making out!”

“H-he doesn’t love me!” Armin says nervously, secretly hoping he does.

“He’s always talking about you,” Eren groans, ignoring the flush that suddenly darkens Jean’s face. “Always! Armin this, Armin that... I wouldn’t have a problem if he’d just admit it already! I saw him staring at you when you couldn’t keep up during training the other day. I bet he wanted to run over to you, scoop you up, and carry you like a princess.”

Armin covers his face and tries to look embarrassed, but secretly grins at the thought. “Oh, god, Eren.” Suddenly, the thought of his physical inadequacy isn’t so bad anymore with these two by his side, his best friend and the boy he _possibly has a slight crush on_.

It snows heavily that night. The idea of trudging through it tomorrow and falling behind the others as usual is horrible, but something in Armin tells him he is okay, that he is doing the right thing.

He still knew that everyone was aware. Everyone saw him whenever he fell, whenever he faltered, whenever he failed to do the tasks that people like Reiner and Jean could complete with barely any effort. They knew, and most knew not to say a word about it.

But when the man he admired most brought up the subject, his words were so gentle and caring that the thought of being silently judged by others was put far behind him.

He was too stubborn to admit it, but Armin hoped Eren was right about Jean’s feelings.


	60. Never Have I Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Armin have some fun.

“Aw, come on, Armin!” Jean grins, feeling warm and slightly giddy all over. “I already admitted that I have, and now it’s your turn. Have you or haven’t you?”

Armin hides his face behind his hands, secretly smiling. “I have,” he quietly admits, before revealing his face again and taking a sip of his drink.

“You’ve crushed on a girl before? I thought you were gay!”

“I’m not gay,” Armin says. “I feel attracted to you obviously, but I didn’t feel attracted to any guys until I met you. You’re only the second person I’ve felt strongly about romantically.”

“What was her name?” Jean asks.

“Oh, god, Jean, I was like, eight years old!” Armin groans. “It was one of those silly childhood crushes you get that mean nothing. You’re my first proper partner.”

“Okay. Fair enough,” Jean laughs, feeling amused at the thought of a romantically awkward Armin. “Let me see... never have I ever...” He pauses, thinking. “...broke a bone in a fight.” He takes a big sip. Armin doesn’t.

“Good boy,” Jean praises. “Let’s keep it that way.”

They’ve both done this before. They all did it in secret back in the barracks one time, after some rebel had gone and stolen a bottle of something strong from one of the higher ups. Nobody got caught, but the results were amusing to say the least, and very intriguing after discovering all the things the other cadets had and hadn’t done.

Now they’re sat with just a few close friends around them, some occasionally listening in curiously, most not, distracted by the other conversations around them.

“Never have I ever punched somebody in the face,” Armin says, taking a sip. Jean does, too.

“Who was it?” Jean asks.

“You,” Armin replies. “And Eren, once.”

They both hear Eren groan from somewhere.

“When was that?” Jean asks. “I don’t remember.”

“I punched you after we had a really horrible argument a while back. Something about stealing, I think? I thought you’d stolen something, and felt awful when it turned out not to be you. As for Eren...” He looks to the side, pretty strands of hair sweeping his face. “Well, the situation called for it a few times.”

“Aha,” Jean laughs. “One I remember is that time we were trying to get to the gas supplies in Trost and found all those people hiding from titans inside headquarters. I dragged some guy out and punched him in the face, and Marco had to stop me. I just got so angry, you know? All these people hiding while we were all dying trying to save a town.”

“That feels like ages ago now, doesn’t it?” Armin asks, still surprised he even survived. “Your turn.”

“Okay... never have I ever, um... faked an orgasm.” He drinks, and Armin does too. “Oh, my god, are you serious?”

Armin nods, struggling not to laugh. “Yes.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been faking all this time?”

“No, no!” the blonde stutters. “Hardly ever! Only once or twice, but it’s happened. It was late, and it just wasn’t coming, so I decided to let you get some sleep. And besides, you’ve, uh, literally s-seen me c-cum before, if you know what I’m saying.” He looks around, hoping nobody has heard them despite his quiet tone. He notices he’s starting to warm up, the whisky in him quickly taking effect. “The real question is, when did you fake one? And _how?_ ”

Jean looks slightly embarrassed. “It was a long while ago. I was, er, inside you.” He cringes at the awkwardness. “And I just groaned casually and you thought I’d came, so I left it at that. So not really _faking_ it, I guess. Just being too tired to get off.”

Armin suddenly starts laughing. He’s grinning without meaning to, highly amused and feeling very happy and relaxed all of a sudden. “That’s really funny actually.”

“Is it?” Jean takes a sip without even waiting for another question this time.

“Yeah. To me.”

Jean leans closer to him and sighs contentedly, putting an arm around the small young man. “How many drinks have you had while I wasn’t watching?” he asks him, nuzzling his cheek.

“A few. Teehee.”

Jean rolls his eyes. “You’re getting to the point where you start to act like a different kind of Armin altogether.”

“Mmmh,” Armin sighs happily, snuggling up to Jean.

“Come on, sit upright, baby.” He nudges him and Armin obeys, sitting up properly. His face is suddenly flushed, the alcohol quickly having been absorbed into his bloodstream after he’d drank it neat. He’d never done that before and it had burned, almost hurt, but there was something about it that he loved.

There’s a pause of about two minutes until Armin suddenly slumps forward, his forehead hitting the table and startling Jean and a few of the people around them.

“Is he okay?” Mikasa asks, surprised.

Jean simply gestures to the bottle of whisky and she frowns. “You shouldn’t have been giving him that,” she says flatly. “Where did you get it from?”

“Yeah, where’s mine?” Connie squawks.

Jean tuts, staring at Armin who looks very contented despite his awkward position. “I knew this would happen,” he says, making sure other people can hear him. He does his best to make Armin sit up properly, letting him lean against the front of his shoulder.

“Ahhh,” Armin sighs dreamily, smiling. “Feels nice...”

“It might feel nice for you,” Jean begins, “but you turn into a pain when you drink a lot.”

“Mmm... Jean?” he mumbles quietly. “Jean, I love you.”

“Did you hear me? _You’re becoming a pain_.” Somebody to the left of them starts laughing.

“Yeah. Love you,” Armin continues, swaying to the side slightly. “Daddy.”

That’s the point at which Jean blushes furiously, trying not to attract any more attention. Without thinking, he places a hand over the blonde’s mouth in an attempt to quieten him. _This was a bad idea after all_ , he thinks.

* * *

Armin just sits there happily. He seems completely fine, just a bit clingier than usual, and for some reason he will not stop telling Jean how cute he is, how much he loves him. Occasionally another “daddy” will slip out and Jean will feel his skin heating up.

“Jean,” Armin slurs for the twentieth time as the taller man carries him up the stairs.

“Now what?”

“So good. Mmm.” Jean has no clue what he’s talking about at this point. He sure must have had a lot to drink behind his back, for him to be like this.

“I feel nice, Jean.”

“Oh, good,” Jean answers cluelessly, opening their bedroom door with his foot.

“Horny...”

“No. Come on, baby, let’s get some sleep. You’re drunk.”

“Not drunk. Ah, I feel all tingly Jean, what is this?” They both crash onto the bed, Jean suddenly giving out from Armin’s weight, his body limp and heavy with all his muscles relaxed.

“You’re tired,” the brunet tells him in desperation as he does his best to tuck them both into bed, only bothering to strip off their trousers. “That’s what it is. Let’s sleep.”

Armin softly whines against him, his breathing faster and louder than usual.

“Please touch me down there,” he whispers eventually. “Please. I feel aroused. ‘S hard and... really warm.”

Jean knows he needs to just let Armin sleep it off, just let him ramble his drunken nonsense until he can’t stay awake any longer. But instead he whispers an almost silent “alright, angel” into his ear, tucking back the thick hair there and tickling his skin with his breath.

“I don’t have to come,” Armin says drowsily. “Please jus’ touch me ‘til I fall ‘sleep.”

At the end of the day, it’s not unusual for him to suddenly want stimulation, especially not when he’s been drinking. But what’s different about now is that Armin doesn’t seem to get excited when Jean gently strokes the tips of his fingers along his length. Instead, he exhales and relaxes against his chest, closing his eyes and tilting back his head.

“Ah,” he moans happily. “So good...”

“Shh,” Jean whispers, kissing the top of his head. He rocks him gently, trying to make him more tired. “Shhh. Don’t keep talking.”

“But it feels so good and I love you so much. Please touch me. I need you.”

“I love you too. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m here to pleasure you. I’m always here.”

“Hahhh...” With that, he sighs and releases whatever tension is left within him, laying perfectly still and letting himself enjoy the current state he’s in. He wants Jean to touch him until he’s panting his name, wants to have sex like he always wants to when he’s been drinking.

But maybe it’s okay if he just lies here instead, loving the warmth of the alcohol and the warmth of Jean’s hands on him, reassuring and secure.

He wants to play that drinking game again someday.


	61. Opposites Attract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a suggestion/request that someone gave. I hope it turned out ok! I don’t know why this took so long but it did. I kept adding and then deleting different parts until I was happy, which took ages. Hope you guys like it!!

Armin lifts the thirtieth crate onto the cart, panting. He’s certainly not the most in-shape person out there - his body is a far cry from someone like Levi’s - and when he notices that Jean’s been sat down on the bench watching him while he lifts the extremely heavy boxes of the manoeuvre gear, he can’t help feeling annoyed.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly. He’s not one to confront other people, not even Jean, but he knows this isn’t right. “I really would have appreciated a little help, you know.”

Each one took him a good while: the boxes were huge, almost 100lbs each, coming dangerously close to crushing the boy’s fingers every time he lifted them off the ground and carefully dropped them again, having to stop every few seconds. Armin knew he was weak, but that didn’t stop him. Something about getting work done was often satisfying.

At least, it would have been satisfying this time if he wasn’t sick to his stomach from the strain. The fact that Jean had just sat and watched made him feel helpless, and unloved.

“Mmm?” Jean finally responds, daydreaming. “What’d you say?”

The blonde sighs and drops to the floor right where he is, his legs almost giving out. “That was difficult for me, you know. My back hurts really badly. I wish you’d helped me.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Armin stares at him, surprised. He isn’t one who seeks sympathy, but this seems a tad heartless. “I always help you complete tasks, you know,” he reminds him. “Remember last week? When we had to take all those poor people to be cremated? That was...” He looks down, both upset and angered. “That was horrifying, and still, I pitched in to help. I transported more of those poor people than you did. I... we had to touch _dead bodies_ , Jean!”

Jean just yawns sleepily.

“Hello?!” Armin hollers angrily. “Can you not see how unfair this is?”

“Ah, sorry,” the brunet murmurs. “I’ll carry some next time. I’ve just been thinking about a few things.”

Armin’s not interested in what those things are. He could be thinking about Mikasa’s naked body for all he cared. All he wanted now was to just lie down somewhere, eat lots of food, and punch his pillow in frustration.

“I don’t believe this. I can’t believe you sometimes.”

Jean is actually grinning slightly, as though something is funny. He knows it’s mean to do so, but he begins to giggle when he notices how hurt Armin looks.

“Don’t _laugh!_ ” Armin thunders, wandering over and gripping Jean’s shoulders. He begins to gently shake him back and forth as if trying to wake him up. “What’s with you today? Why are you being such an asshole?”

“Oh, be quiet,” the brunet says, staring into space.

“Don’t you think... that maybe, um, our workloads should at least be equal?” Armin asks, almost sobbing. “I’m exhausted, Jean. I’m always exhausted and you only ever seem to want to do anything when the Commander personally asks you to! I thought you loved me? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be sat around while I’m working my butt off!”

“I do love you,” Jean says, surprised. “God, you’re the center of my universe, Armin!”

Armin shakes his head. “No, Jean, you don’t, not if you’re going to sit there half asleep while my muscles are raw from lifting things almost as heavy as my own body all day.”

Jean suddenly scowls. “If it’s something _you’ve_ been assigned, why the fuck should I help you?” he growls.

“It’s something we were _both_ assigned! We were asked to transport all these crates because the Commander knows we usually work well together! Why wouldn’t you cooperate?”

“Because I don’t feel like it today. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Yes, it is.”

Something within Jean snaps, and he has to put physical effort into not lunging forwards and hurting his lover. Armin has no idea what’s gotten into him today, but he figures it must have been something big for him to be behaving like this, so irrational and unwilling to do what he’s been asked to do.

“These weren’t my instructions, you know,” Armin says, hostile. “I’m not asking for help because I’m lazy, I’m asking for help because not only am I on the verge of collapsing, but it’s something you have a duty to do, too.”

“So fucking what?”

Armin stares at him, shocked.

“If you don’t want to work,” he tells him, “then quit and go somewhere else instead, but according to you I’m obviously perfectly capable of doing these tasks by myself, even if I do get sick from overexertion.”

“Go somewhere else? You know bloody well you’d be in the shit if it wasn’t for me looking after your sorry ass all the time,” Jean tells him coldly, overcoming his mental restraints and grabbing the front of Armin’s shirt. He pulls the little blonde towards him, glaring at him, feeling as though nothing is going his way today. He’s felt moody all day, for seemingly no reason. And he can be a big pussbag when it comes down to it, so he’s decided to take it out on the person closest to him.

Armin looks up at him, eyes glistening with tears, obviously terrified. “O-okay,” he whispers. “But... I s-still stand by the fact that y-you’re being an asshole for no reason today.”

Jean releases him, throwing him onto the floor as if he weighed nothing.

“You’re such a little bitch, you know that?” he snarls while Armin gets up and brushes himself down. “If you don’t like being around me, then go.”

The smaller still stares at him before realising this whole farce is completely pointless. Nothing he can say will defuse the situation at this point. All he can really do is leave, and at the same time, bitterly express the fact that he currently feels like complete and utter crap.

“Fuck you too.”

* * *

This sort of thing doesn’t happen often, but when it does, both parties suffer. The two boys are truly hurt, feeling sore inside, both wishing they’d done something differently at the time.

 _I’ve gone and done it again_ , Armin thinks, pressing his face into his pillow. _Even if it was his fault, I know it would have been better if I’d have just stopped talking before I made him angry, before it got out of hand_.

 _I’m an asshole_ , Jean thinks, wanting to kick himself. _I’m the very definition of an asshole. I sat around on my backside all day while Armin was putting a huge strain on himself, and then I got angry for no reason at all. Next time, I’m gonna make it up to him. I swear I will._

Neither has apologised yet. Some of the others can obviously see that something has happened, because it’s not like Armin and Jean to keep themselves distanced from each other.

 _I should apologise_ , Jean tells himself.

 _I should try to make amends_ , Armin tells himself.

They’d never admit it outright, but what both boys really, really need is just a big hug.

* * *

Jean is watching him again, this time with genuine, aching sympathy. He knows Armin hates sympathy - he always has done, ever since his childhood days of being beaten up by other kids and subsequently taken to Eren’s father for treatment. Still, Jean feels sorry for him while the boy finishes loading the cart before struggling to push it into the giant storage house. God knows how much that thing weighs. His angel is panting and sweating, heart thumping worryingly hard, the organ desperate to fuel his frail body with the blood it needs.

When he’s finished, he suddenly drops to the floor, relieved and completely drained of energy. He’s too tired to even find somewhere proper to sit. There’s a long pause until he suddenly speaks, seemingly to himself at first until Jean remembers that’s just not the type of thing Armin does.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know,” he says breathlessly, smiling in a sad kind of way.

 _What?_ Jean thinks, alarmed. _Can he see me? Does he know I’ve been watching? There’s nobody else around but me and Armin._

“You can come out from behind that tree, Jean,” Armin continues. “I’m not going to bite.”

The brunet wavers for a second, feeling foolish. It was a futile move, trying to hide from Armin. He was astute and always on alert, always wary, always cautious just like a prey animal at the bottom of the food chain - which is exactly what they all were in this world.

Jean wanders into proper view, embarrassed. Armin smiles again, warmly this time.

“Got any snacks to spare?”

Jean shakes his head. “No, but I have water.” He hands him the flask, knowingly not addressing the fact that they’ve been on bad terms for the past three days.

“Thanks, Jean.” He takes it and drinks the whole lot, only stopping for breath before chugging the rest and handing the empty container back to Jean. He hiccups slightly, clutching his stomach and groaning.

“It’s not a good idea to drink so much all at once,” Jean tells him, amused. “You’ll end up being sick.”

“Why would it matter if I was sick?”

“Because it’s not good for your body if you’re sick. You’ll only end up losing more fluids.”

“I know that. I’m just confused as to why you’d be concerned about something bad happening to me.”

Jean is taken aback. “What? Because I love you, and I care! Why else?”

“You don’t!” Armin says.

“Oh, god,” the taller grumbles. “Please, can we forget about the other day? It was wrong of me to leave all the work to you and I got mad over nothing. I’m sorry, baby. You... you’re still angry, aren’t you?”

The blonde shakes his head. “No. I’m not angry.”

“Do you love me?”

Armin wanders forwards upon hearing this, standing before Jean, looking up at him.

“That’s the silliest question that’s ever been asked,” he tells him before standing on his tiptoes and pressing a long, soft kiss to Jean’s lips.

A muffled but relieved gasp comes from the larger of the two as the soft lips work expertly against his, the tip of Armin’s tongue lightly pushing inwards until Jean manages to relax and allows him inside. For a moment he’s anxious about someone suddenly coming along and seeing, but that doesn’t matter, _shouldn’t_ matter right now.

“Mmf,” Jean moans, gripping the boy’s hair gently. It feels so good - so fulfilling, a need being met, a thirst being quenched.

Armin pulls away for breath and stares at Jean. The latter is surprised to see that he’s trembling slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks him.

“I feel guilty, Jean. For getting angry. It’s really not like me to get angry, and I feel terrible.”

“Oh, my angel,” Jean whispers, lifting a hand to cup the boy’s chin. He tilts it up, studying Armin’s face. “Angel, you had every right to be.”

“But still. I wish I’d just stayed calm and went off to do my own thing instead of swearing at you and retaliating. Swearing is your thing, not mine.”

Jean finds this funny. “Oh, you got that right. Please, don’t dwell on this, alright? We screwed up. Well, _I_ screwed up. But it’s okay. We’re okay. We will always be okay.”

“Hahh,” Armin sighs, collapsing into Jean’s arms unexpectedly. “I love you so so much...”

“Love you too,” Jean replies, unable to stop smiling.

There’s a long silence.

“I think,” Armin finally says, pulling away slightly, “that I need to go get some rest.”

* * *

Jean sits down on the bed, staring at the floor and wondering how long they’ll be staying at this inn. It’s not a bad place, a little crowded, but that’s to be expected considering it’s full of soldiers. A substantial number of soldiers who are viewed as expendable and will probably spend the last night of their lives here.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when the door leading to the shower opens, and what he sees in front of him has his eyes wide in shock.

Armin must be doing this on purpose. He can be a sly little bastard at times, twisting Jean right around his finger. He’s fully aware that Jean’s still a little sensitive over their argument, and that this will introduce a whole new situation.

“A... Armin?!” Jean asks, taken aback. The blonde is stood there in front of him completely naked, arms folded, smirking. He doesn’t look the least bit shy, and that’s not like him. This isn’t the kind of thing Armin does, not at all.

“Yes?” he asks, gazing at Jean and smiling gently.

“W-what,“ Jean begins, “what are you doing, exactly?”

“Well,” he begins, “I was just about to get dressed. What about you?”

Jean’s cheeks are quickly heating up. “I, I don’t know really, aha.” He does his best to stare at the floor and not his lover’s body, even though he knows that’s exactly what Armin wants right now.

“Hmm. Alright,” Armin responds, and his voice sounds so calm, so normal. “I’m still warm from working, so I might stay like this for a while.”

Jean feels himself getting embarrassingly hard. _He’s such a little devil_ , he thinks, almost tempted to cover his crotch so that Armin won’t know he’s won.

The smaller collapses onto the bed on his back, arms stretched out, sighing. He stays there for a few minutes, occasionally looking over to Jean to see whether or not he’s gotten a noticeable response yet. And when there’s nothing of interest other than a blush and a hand covering the brunet’s erection, he lifts himself up and, without the slightest amount of shame, sits atop Jean’s thighs and straddles him.

“Armin,” Jean tells him pitifully, wishing he wasn’t so turned on.

“Yes?”

There’s a pause while he thinks of how to word it politely, but then decides there’s really no need. “Oh, screw it, I can’t take it anymore. Let me fuck you real good. To make up for how much of an idiot I’ve been.”

Armin’s eyes light up. “Finally!” he says.

“What do you mean, _finally?_ ”

“Why else would I literally stand around flaunting my body like this?”

“Ah... I guess you’re right,” Jean says, suddenly noticing that Armin’s even harder than he is. He wonders how long he’s been like that.

Armin slowly gets up and lowers himself to the floor, carefully undoing the buttons on Jean’s trousers. Their uniform is always such a pain to get off.

“I think it’s in the bathroom,” Jean says quietly, and Armin doesn’t have to ask for clarification.

“You get it,” the young man says sassily, and Jean doesn’t even question it. He sticks his arm around the door, carefully fumbling along the shelf until he clasps his hands around a small, clear glass bottle, taller than it is wide and filled with a pale yellow oil.

Armin stares at it while Jean undresses, wondering what it actually is. He opens it and sniffs it. It’s a mildly sweet, floral kind of aroma.

“I...” Jean begins, suddenly embarrassed about how turned on he is. “Christ, I don’t even know, Armin. I shouldn’t be so aroused just by the sight of you not wearing anything but I am. I feel awful defiling you so, but... you’re so beautiful.”

* * *

Armin is pressed down against the bed, legs wrapped around Jean’s back, feet raised above them both which sway slightly with every thrust. He’s moaning, a little more deeply than usual, a nearly continuous string of vowels spilling from his mouth. Jean is relatively quiet other than a few pleasured grunts and his heavy, accelerated breathing.

“Jesus christ,” he hisses, almost a whisper. Something about the angst that’s been in the air for the past few days makes this all the better.

He looks down into Armin’s blue eyes. They stare up at him lustfully, dreamily. Something about those blue eyes matches the blonde’s reserved, pensive and often cynical persona. They also harbour the soft, kind and emotional majority of his character, all alongside the more manipulative and cunning minority of it.

It feels good just to be above him, to be so close to someone this rare and beautiful. Jean’s so in love, so excited by the fact that he’s connected with this gem of a human on such an intimate level.

“I love you,” he tells him, the words barely a hiss of his breath.

“Love... you,” Armin pants, dazed and losing track of time. “I love you so much.”

“You’re so beautiful, baby.”

“Th... thank you,” Armin replies, glancing at the mirror to the left of them and blushing when he sees himself being fucked like this. He’s surprised by the way he’s pushed down with every thrust, their bodies rocking together as one, flaxen hair slicked with sweat and sticking to his face.

He’s come so undone. Jean can’t believe this is the same sweet and intelligent young man he’s trained with for so long. This doesn’t seem like Armin Arlert at all - no, not the curious, innocent and sometimes serious boy he’s known for ages now, not _that_ boy, the one who’s always reading books and saying how he doesn’t want to stay cooped up in these damn walls forever.

No, this hardly seems like Armin at all.

But it is. And it’s a side only Jean will ever see - a beautiful, relaxed side of him, a side of him in which he can just let go, just throw himself into ecstasy without keeping up the same face he does in the presence of others.

He finds himself thrusting into a spot that’s slightly rougher than the rest of him, and Armin jolts in surprise.

“Oooohhh, Jean,” he whines, closing his eyes and stretching out his arms. “Ahhh...”

“Is that good?” the brunet whispers, not stopping.

“Yes,” Armin smiles sincerely, opening his eyes again. “Mm... yes!”

 _Shit... so cute_ , Jean thinks, leaning closer to him so that all they can hear are their own loud breaths and the gentle sound of skin hitting skin. It’s so wet down there and Jean can’t tell if it’s from the lubricant or because he’s leaking so much, the way a girl does. It’s slippery and easy, relaxed, pleasurable. _Amazing._

Armin raises his thighs higher, changing the angle of penetration. It allows Jean to go that much deeper, and for a moment he’s realising how rare this is. Anal wasn’t supposed to be this easy, right? Armin must be so contented and relaxed for him to be able to take Jean this well. 99% of the time he’s anxious and too tight, and it takes more than a normal amount of lubricant and reassurance just to insert the head.

Jean feels his pace faltering. He’s stiffening and quivering, their hot breath tickling eachother’s skin.

“Don’t stop,” Armin gasps.

“Sorry,” Jean whispers. He continues, but more slowly and gently so as not to wear himself out.

“It feels so good,” the blonde sobs.

“It does,” Jean grins. “It’s amazing.”

“Please make me come,” Armin requests, despite knowing that he really doesn’t have to ask.

“Hell yeah, I’ll make you come,” Jean promises, thrusting into him hard again. Armin cries out with practically every thrust, unable to control it when he rams into that sensitive gland inside. It’s a feeling that really resonates through him in intense, pleasurable waves.

“I n-... I need,” Armin suddenly pants, eyes wide and glistening as his ankles squeeze Jean’s waist. “I need to come! I need - _OH!_ Ngh, Je- JEAN! Oh my god-“

He can’t stop himself from moaning and wailing like an animal in heat when he finally orgasms. Usually he’d be embarrassed about making such lewd sounds, but he’s so dazed by the pleasure that all shame and self awareness has completely vanished.

After a few breathy moans and gasps, Jean comes too, stiffening when his climax hits him. It feels amazing when he releases his seed, his muscles tensing involuntarily, jaw growing slack. He all but stops thrusting, quivering beyond his control, the ecstasy sending him delirious. He actually has to be careful as to not topple over onto Armin.

It seems to last longer than usual, and seems to be especially intense.

“Fuck,” Jean whispers once he manages to regain control, out of breath. “Oh, fuck!”

Armin stares up at him, still in a daze, chest rising and falling rapidly. Jean notices, and while he knows it’s purely because his little sweetheart has just had an amazing orgasm, he still has to check because he cares for him so much.

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah...” he says contentedly. Something about the slightly slurred and relaxed way he’s speaking reminds Jean of when Armin drinks alcohol. “So nice... and warm inside me.”

“Baby,” is all Jean can manage, wanting to cry because Armin is so beautiful, especially like this.

_Oh god, he has such power over me._

“I love when you go really deep, Jean,” Armin tells him happily, laying down contentedly with his eyes closed. “I feel so good, so loved.”

“That’s because you _are_ loved,” Jean tells him, smiling warmly. It’s not often he smiles genuinely like that.

“Except when you’re sat around half asleep, drooling, lost in your own world while I’m doing all the back-breaking labour.”

“Baby, stop that talk,” the man says gently, reaching up to stroke and fondle the boy’s chin. “It won’t happen again, I swear. We’re gonna try not to have any more arguments.”

“We’ve only ever had three,” Armin laughs, opening his eyes and tugging Jean down with him.

“That’s three too many!”

“It’s fine,” Armin tells him gently, holding the taller by the shoulders and guiding his head down onto his chest, loving the way Jean sighs against him as he does so. The slow, slight rising and falling of the blonde’s chest soothes Jean, almost sends him straight to sleep until he carefully shifts his position and smiles contentedly when he can hear the gentle _thu-thump, thu-thump_ beneath him.

It’s so intimate, like this.

Jean’s half amused and half in disbelief about the fact that this pretty young man, who’s laid beneath him, happy to share his body with him like this, was so moody and stubborn just hours before. Armin’s moodiness and standoffishness is so damn arousing to him somehow. Something about him being so closed off and then coming out of his shell completely is beautiful.

Jean hates arguing. He hates hurting his sweet lover, and he hates when they fight. But if he can find a balance - if he can just tease Armin a little, just occasionally, just enough to make him pout and then blush and give in because he’s horny, then that’s fine with Jean.

That’s more than fine. That’s wonderful.

He loves Armin Arlert for who he is, would never change a single thing about that beautiful, stubborn and sweet mind of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn... nearly 4000 words. These keep getting longer and longer aha


	62. He Who Lives On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That man who was devoured by Armin’s titan refuses to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers spoilers everywhere (although if u have been reading these u probably already know lol)
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Some of the traits appeared gradually: some did not.

Some of them, Jean barely even noticed right up until the point at which they became significant. For example, the height confusion: Armin would often find himself feeling taller than he was, would go to reach something on a tall shelf only to realise that, of course, he was too short.

And all of a sudden he was unused to his lack of strength. He’d really overdo it with the manoeuvre gear, often going way faster than his body was physically accustomed to with much jerkier, more reckless movements that only someone in the top ten could get away with unscathed.

Then came the different food preferences. Jean would notice that Armin was eating things he previously disliked and had completely gone off foods he used to love. The pair used to love sharing the maple croissants from the bakery in Trost. Now, Armin couldn’t stand them.

It didn’t take a genius to work it out. After all, Eren had gone through something similar, although with Armin it seemed a lot more pronounced. When Jean woke up one morning to discover that Armin had shifted so much in his sleep that his feet were leaning against the wall and his upper torso was leaning over the edge of the bed, that confirmed it.

* * *

“No...”

A brief pause, and then he’s mumbling again.

“No, I can’t- no!”

Jean jerks upright, startled. He doesn’t know how long Armin’s been dreaming, but his voice is getting louder and louder.

“ _I can’t do it!_ ” he suddenly screams, thrashing against the bedsheets. “Don’t, please- no, I...“

“Armin!” Jean says, shaking his shoulder. “Armin, you’re dreaming.”

“Stop it!” Armin screams in his sleep.

“It’s Jean, it’s me! You’re fine, you’re here with me, I’ve got you!“

The blonde gasps and opens his eyes wide, looking horrified and then surprised when he finds himself lying in bed.

“My god,” Jean whispers, extremely concerned. “Are you okay, angel?!”

“I...” he begins, starting to cry. He buries himself under the duvet, feeling vulnerable, terrified and generally awful.

Jean knows that it’s one of _those_ dreams. It’s one of those startling, loud, hyper-realistic dreams, ones that play on and on in your head after you’ve already woken up. He knows this from the way Armin keeps his eyes closed and can’t stand the thought of resurfacing from the blanket.

Jean gets them, too - but not like this, not with the thrashing, crying and general distress.

“Baby?” the man gently asks.

“I’m fine,” Armin assures him. “It’s okay. It was just a really frightening dream.”

“What about?” he asks worriedly.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Armin says, staring into space before clutching at his face and grumbling. “Oh... geez...”

“What is it?”

“I can see it, again. It keeps coming back, what I was just dreaming about now! It’s like it’s still happening!”

“Please tell me?” Jean says, but the request sounds more like a polite question.

Armin wavers for a second, wondering whether or not he should just go back to sleep before realising that talking to Jean will probably ease his mind.

“I was being tortured,” he says slowly and quietly, head lowered. “In someplace I didn’t know. Not here. Somewhere else with all these people I didn’t recognise. I was in a room, and they were trying to give me the titan serum, saying that once I became the colossus they wanted me to breach Wall Maria and kill as many people as possible.” He gulps, pausing.

“Like... him?” Jean asks, barely a whisper.

“Yes. Like what he did all those years ago.” Armin closes his eyes and moves closer to Jean. “Except it was me in his position this time, as if I _was_ him. They were hurting me, trying to bribe me into becoming a titan even though I knew it meant having to carry out all these horrible, evil plans, having to infiltrate an entire empire. I couldn’t, and whenever I refused the injection they’d tear off one of my nails.” He looks slightly nauseous.

Jean doesn’t have the right words, so he just grasps Armin, a little too firmly judging by the young man’s quiet murmur.

Instead of trying to think of something deep and clever that would probably turn into a badly-delivered message of reassurance anyway, he decides to say the two words that he knows soothe Armin the most.

“I’m here.”

* * *

Everyone knows being a titan shifter isn’t as easy as it sounds. It may be a great and incredibly useful power to possess, but so many consequences come with it that it almost doesn’t seem worth it.

While it didn’t happen straight away, Armin knows that he isn’t quite himself anymore. He’s still the same person inside, obviously, but he’s become ridden with all these memories, experiences and traits that he isn’t sure even belong to him.

The worst part about it is that he’s changing for all these people around him. What will his best friends, Mikasa and Eren, think now? What about Jean? What about the rest of the people he knows? Levi could eliminate him at any time if he suddenly became a threat, just like he’d promised to do with Eren. What if his squad suddenly decides he’s not Armin anymore, that he’s different, that he’s too dangerous, that Erwin should have survived instead and he won’t be of any use and he’ll still be the pathetic weak boy he’s always been and then-

“ _Armin!_ ” Jean says loudly, eyes wide with concern.

Armin stops thinking, but the worry remains.

“Are you going deaf?” Jean asks worriedly.

“No!” the blonde replies indignantly.

“It took me four times to get your attention just now. I just wanted to check you’re alright. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m fine. I was thinking,” Armin tells him, head in his hands. “Thinking. Very hard. You know, that thing I always do.”

“About that dream you had the other day?”

“Not that. But it’s related, I suppose.” He sighs. “I’ve got so much on my mind, Jean. Far too much to tell you about right now.”

Jean knows this. The Battle Of Shiganshina District affected everybody, but it affected Armin the most considering what happened to him.

“You’re still you, you know.”

“I know.”

“And I want you to ignore that asshole,” Jean suddenly adds. “You know who.”

Armin seems surprised. “You mean- the one from that time- _him?_ ”

“Yeah, him. That one guy who tried to invalidate your very existence.”

“But he did have a point,” Armin tells him. “I mean, they saved a nobody like me over the commander of the Survey Corps.”

Jean could have cried at this. A _nobody?_ Was that what Armin still thought?

“No,” Jean whispers, almost sobbing whilst he envelops Armin in his hold, nuzzling his hair. “No, baby, you can’t talk about yourself like this anymore.”

“It’s the truth,” Armin says. “I was told that countless times as a child, and I was still told it up until recently. All those people can’t be wrong.”

“They _are_ wrong!” Jean almost shouts, making Armin jump.

Armin still thinks otherwise, but he knows it’s no use continuing. He’s too tired, anyway. Not physically. He could run forever and not feel worn out, but the idea of speaking another word seems so exhausting.

“You have so many people who love you, you know,” Jean reminds him. “So many people who care, so many people who need you to live a good life.”

Armin just listens, burying his face into Jean’s chest. He loves his warmth, loves the comfort he gets from snuggling against him.

“Do you want to know exactly what happened back in Shiganshina?”

Armin keeps quiet, resting against him.

“We were all crying,” Jean continues, closing his eyes for fear of letting a rogue tear through. “And I’m not exaggerating, either. _Everyone_ was devastated when we saw your burnt body on that rooftop. And when you emerged from your titan, we cried again, this time with relief. The biggest relief we’d ever felt.”

Armin feels something in his heart when Jean tells him this.

“Eren hugged you as soon as you woke up, didn’t he?”

He feels Armin nod.

“If I hadn’t been so run down and injured, I would have too.”

Armin still stays quiet, the way he often does. Quiet, meek, intelligent. The one who takes everything in.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do anything wrong, you know,” Jean mutters, starting to stroke Armin’s hair, running his hand from his fringe to the back of his head and then repeating the process. “Obviously nobody’s perfect, but I’ve never seen you do anything unjustified or irrational. All you ever do is obey orders, carry out what you have a duty to do, and act like the ideal soldier even though you’re not physically strong.”

Armin quietly agrees.

“You’re so loved. So, so loved, by so many people. Every single one of us loves you immensely. And you ought to love yourself, too, baby.”

Armin can’t believe he’s even hearing this.

He grew up learning to hate himself. He’d grown up being told he was a loser, a wimp, a pussy, a coward, a heretic. They’d all called him a freak everyday, telling him to stop dreaming, to stop those delusional fucking ideas of his, telling him he was born inside the walls and would die inside them, too. Telling him he was nobody, that he’d never achieve anything because he could never fight back.

Jean hopes those bullies and harassers are still alive just so he can beat the shit out of them, but he doesn’t say this out loud.

“He lives on, you know,” Armin suddenly says, not moving. “Inside my head.”

“I know he does. Your sleeping positions have never been the same since.” He chuckles lightly. “I see little parts of him in your behaviour sometimes.”

“He wasn’t a bad guy,” Armin continues. “Just... misled. Confused. And scared.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“Sometimes I wonder if he’s still conscious and alive somehow. Like, as if he lives in my mind or something. Because occasionally it does feel a bit like I’m split in two.”

Jean squeezes him a bit too tightly and Armin whimpers, but stays put.

The taller boy doesn’t know how to respond, so he just shifts their position and looks at him until Armin flushes slightly at the eye contact and looks away. 

All he knows is that no matter what the future holds - no matter if Armin lives to only 28 or perhaps even older, if something miraculous were to occur - he’s never going to leave this gentle soul alone in the dark.

* * *

Later that night, Jean’s gazing at that boy again, this time as their hot, damp bodies rock together. His stare is as hard as his thumping heart, appreciating the golden halo of hair that’s spread out across the pillow, slightly damp with sweat and needing of a good wash but looking damn gorgeous anyway.

The next day, Jean wakes up with Armin’s head tucked beneath his arm, feet raised in the air to press against the windowsill, arms hanging off the end of the bed as he mutters calm nonsense in the midst of peaceful, restful, well-needed sleep.


	63. The Joy of Pleasing Another

The warmth of a hot meal is the most enjoyable thing the soldiers have been able to savour all day, everything else having been either cold, stale, sour or horribly plain for weeks on end.

Everyone is in a good mood. There was no lukewarm stew this time with stale bread, no soggy, overcooked greens, no tea that was so weak it was close to water. It was rare the higher ups spared some actual quality food for the Survey Corps. Sasha had gone absolutely crazy once she smelled the piles of scorching hot steaks and almost sank her teeth into them then and there, until Armin and Eren managed to stop her.

“I feel bad about them spending more money on us than usual,” Armin says wistfully as they wander down the corridor, actually feeling full for once.

“You’re too kindhearted for your own good,” Jean remarks, stopping and pulling Armin into a loose embrace when he notices they’re alone. “You shouldn’t be feeling bad about that. You’re pretty skinny. You could use a few more meals like that.”

Armin squeals a little when Jean suddenly picks him up roughly at the waist, lifting him almost as if to demonstrate how light he is. “W-what are you doing?” the smaller asks nervously.

“Shhh,” Jean gently hushes him, kissing the top of his head. He turns him around and hoists him up until the blonde has his legs wrapped around him, arms draped loosely around his neck.

“Jean...” Armin says breathlessly.

He tilts Armin’s face back a little, making him look him in the eye. “Yeah?”

“It makes me feel... hot and bothered when you hold me like this,” Armin tells him, panting.

Jean just grins as he wanders towards his room. Armin tries to squirm out of his arms, feeling as though he’s weighing him down, but Jean’s not having any of it.

He pushes the door open with his foot, still not letting go of Armin, who’s given up trying to tangle himself free. He walks a few feet forwards and gently places him down on the bed, kneeling atop it as he stares down at Armin, smiling and admiring his features.

“You... you’re so cute,” he states suddenly, lowering himself so that their lower halves are pressed together, Jean’s hands clasped around Armin’s wrists. This seems to rile the latter of the two up, evident when he squeezes his eyes shut and suddenly groans, rutting up against Jean’s crotch.

“Oh...” he whimpers, laying back further so that his hair lies slack and spread out across the white sheets, head tilted up to expose the tender pale skin on his neck.

There couldn’t have been a more obvious invitation for Jean.

He latches onto the ridged column of his windpipe and gently sucks, causing Armin to moan quietly. His hands begin to tangle in the young man’s long, soft hair as he gets to work, kissing, sucking, nipping him so erotically that Armin’s literally lying there panting, a familiar aching and throbbing between his legs.

Armin’s got that look about him, that “take me, I’m yours” look, the one he gets where he basically presents himself to Jean, breathing heavily and trembling, the slightest touch on his sensitive skin forcing out a cry of satisfaction.

“Mmph,” Armin mumbles when Jean suddenly takes hold of the sides of his face and kisses him hard without warning. His tongue slips into the boy’s hot mouth, past his lips to entwine his tongue with his.

He doesn’t stop until Armin literally pulls him back by his hair just so he can breathe.

“Hah,” he exhales, spreading himself out across the bed. He lowers his hand and tucks it into his trousers to touch himself, but Jean pulls it back. Armin looks at him questioningly.

“That’s my job,” Jean says, smirking. “Leave the work to me.”

Armin smiles at this, almost overwhelmed by how good Jean is to him. “I... almost feel guilty, Jean. You always take care of me. You make me feel so amazing and loved.”

“Because that’s exactly what you are, angel. You’re amazing, and you’re loved.” He pulls off Armin’s shirt, hands gently gripping his now-bare waist. He seems to shiver at the sensation, and blushes slightly, trying to hide his small frame as if he’s ashamed about it.

“What are you doing, baby?” Jean asks, gently pulling his arms back. “Baby, you’re beautiful. Don’t hide your body from me. Please.”

“I don’t know what you see in a scrawny little guy like me.”

“I see the whole world in you.”

Armin doubts him. “Don’t be silly. The only good qualities I have are my kindness and my ability to think during times of crisis. I have never even slayed a titan!”

Jean shakes his head a little, but doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he leans down and presses his face against Armin’s bare chest, taking in the gorgeous scent of him that arouses him more than anything in this world.

When Armin makes a quiet sound, Jean moves upwards until his lips latch onto his left nipple, which is erected and dark pink from arousal.

“I haven’t... even...” Armin begins breathlessly, but he can hardly even finish.

“I haven’t even k-... killed a... a titan before. Why... Jean, why do you treat me so well, when I’m, s-so, useless?”

“Shhh,” he hushes against his skin, and the sensation of his hot breath against his nipple is fucking heavenly. “It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. Come on, stop that talk. Let me pleasure you. Let me make you happy, Armin.” He gets back to work when he sees how much his words have relaxed him, but stops abruptly when Armin suddenly flinches and cries out when he sucks harder.

“I can’t,” Armin gasps.

Jean lifts up his head, alarmed. “Are you alright?” he asks nervously. “What can’t you do? Am I hurting you?”

“A bit.”

Jean widens his eyes. “I’m hurting you? Fuck... so sorry, I’ll be more gentle.”

Armin covers his face. “It’s fine. It’s just that... when I get aroused, they get... very, very sensitive. And... kind of sore.”

The brunet gives him a look of concern, propping himself up onto his elbows. “Your nipples feel sore when you’re aroused?” he asks softly.

Armin nods, still hiding his face. “Y-yeah... I think it’s a hormonal thing. It’s...” He groans quietly. “It’s so embarrassing.”

Jean suddenly moans, and when Armin looks at him in confusion, he feels the need to explain himself. “That’s so fucking hot,” he tells him, gazing down at Armin with eyes of lust. “God...”

“How is that hot?” the blonde asks indignantly. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those sadism people?”

“No, not at all, I just love the idea of you being so tender when you’re turned on,” Jean explains, gently running his hands along Armin’s sides. “I’m not into that pain stuff. I just love the thought of your body being sensitive, that you can feel everything I’m doing to you.”

“Even if it’s pain?”

“Well, no,” Jean says, slightly amused. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but when you told me you get sore when you’re turned on, that just really did something for me. It got me really hard.”

“Ah,” Armin smiles. He sighs and shuts his eyes. “You can carry on, you know. It feels so good. Just not too hard, okay?”

Jean nods. “Okay. I know what you love, anyway. Let me do it for you.”

“Please do.”

Jean giggles and lowers his head, once again wrapping his lips around the small pink nub on the left of the boy’s chest. He doesn’t suck against it this time, simply flicks the tip of his tongue against it lightly, swirling around it and glancing up when Armin gasps uncontrollably.

“Ohh... my... that’s so... mmm!” he moans, lips parted. “That’s so good, Jean! Please, use your hand, the other one, both please please-“

Jean rests the pad of his finger against the tip of his right nipple and gently swirls around it, not stopping the stimulation of his tongue on the other one. Armin gasps again and squirms on the bed, almost kicking Jean, his movements beyond his control.

“Jean!” he wails. “Jean... ah... I love you! I love you so, so much Jean, you don’t know wh-what y-you’re doing to me, it’s... _ohhh my god_ -“

He raises his hips, trying to gain friction down below. Jean hisses with excitement when he feels Armin’s solid erection brushing against his through their clothing. He loves when he feels how hard Armin gets. He loves the fact that his adorable little lover gets so turned on by him. Everytime Jean feels the blonde’s hard, warm erection, he falls in love with the sweet boy a little more.

“Off with these clothes,” Jean suddenly says, pulling his face away from Armin’s chest but still gently rubbing and massaging his sensitive nipples with his fingers.

“Ahh,” Armin moans, shimmying off his trousers and underwear so that he’s completely naked all while Jean is still fully clothed above him, once again gently suckling and pinching his nipples. He switches them up occasionally, delighting in the cute little “oh!” Armin gives whenever he does so.

“I think...” Armin begins, sounding as though he’s gasping for breath.

Jean pauses, but does his best to continue pleasuring him while he talks. “Yeah?” he asks softly, lowering his hand to gently clasp his fingers around his lover’s tender, aching erection. It feels hot and smooth against his hand, so arousing that he can’t do anything about his own solid cock that’s poking against Armin’s thigh.

“I think I’m going to come,” Armin whispers, eyes glistening. “Just from this.”

The taller of the two suddenly stops, not wanting to end this so soon. “Really?”

Armin nods. “Yes. Really.”

“Hmm.” Jean glances down and stares at his angel’s beautiful body, which is laid out completely bare before him. “Shit... I can’t let you get tired before I’ve touched the rest of you.”

This turns Armin on even more, but also accentuates his cheeks with a hot pink blush.

Jean slowly extends his fingers and taps lightly against the glans of the boy’s erection, smiling when Armin whimpers with pleasure. “You’re so cute down here,” he says softly, staring at the young man’s organ. “You get me so riled up, little Arlert. You don’t know what your sweet body does to me.”

“G-god...” Armin breathes, covering his face for what is probably the fourth time now. Jean pulls his hands out of the way so that he can see his adorable features while he touches him.

A couple of fingers prod gently against his hole, which twitches at the unexpected touch.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside.”

Armin becomes alarmed. “It’ll hurt!” he says. “You need to use lubricant.”

“I’ll just lick my fingers to make them wet.”

“That’s so gross! Don’t do that!”

“It’s fine!” Jean tries to convince him, pushing forward in an attempt to breach the tight entrance. Armin groans and deliberately clenches, denying Jean of entry.

“Let me in,” Jean complains.

“Use lubricant and I will.”

“My fingers are wet enough!” Jean insists, holding them up to the light so that Armin can see them glistening with fluid. “Look! Unless you want me to try just one at first?”

“You can’t put any in until you use something else to make them slippery,” Armin says.

Jean sighs, hastily getting up and wandering into the tiny bathroom, which is barely even 2m x 2m in size. He rummages through the cupboard while Armin lies on the bed in wait, chest rising and falling as he pants with arousal.

He returns to the large, white bed with the small bottle of pale yellow oil they always use. “You happy now?” Jean teases as the bed dips beneath his weight while he carefully pours a few drops onto his fingers.

“Shut up,” Armin groans.

“You’re such a brat,” Jean grins, leaning in for a kiss.

“Mmm,” Armin groans again, trying to kick Jean away. “Just finger me already, asshole.”

“I’m not the asshole here,” Jean chuckles, lowering his hand to brush the tips of his fingers against his lover’s hole. “The real asshole is down here, right against my fingers, clenching tightly.”

“Your jokes are terrible,” Armin says, unable to conceal his grin.

“Oh, you love me,” Jean says heatedly as his middle finger easily slips into his lover, making him shudder and moan quietly.

Armin raises his legs higher, wrapping one of them around Jean’s waist while he fingers him, closing his eyes and leaning back to just relax and enjoy it.

Jean pushes it in as deep as he can, curling it, feeling around for the patch of nerves that he knows will drive his sweet lover crazy with pleasure.

“Gosh...” Armin whispers, and the innocence and purity of his tone makes Jean’s cock twitch, completely out of his control.

“I’m adding another,” Jean pants, so aroused by the fact that he’s pleasuring Armin that he doesn’t even care about his own neglected, throbbing cock.

Armin wails at the intrusion, tightening around the two fingers. They seem to thrust even deeper this time, and there’s a faint, barely conscious thought in the back of Armin’s mind that reminds him of how glad he is that he... um... cleaned out his insides earlier to make things easier.

“ _Ngh!_ ” Armin suddenly moans when the tips of Jean’s fingers curl right into his prostate. They rub the gland enthusiastically, his movements slowly getting more and more intense until Armin’s gasping and wheezing, his legs squeezing Jean’s waist.

“Wait, I think I’m coming,” Armin exhales, shivering. “Slow down!”

“Ah, sorry.” Jean doesn’t withdraw, but slows his movements and uncurls his fingers, carefully thrusting forwards instead. It still feels so wonderful that Armin’s rocking slightly against him, trying to get him deeper.

“Have... have sex with me,” Armin pants. “I need...”

Jean continues thrusting his fingers, gazing down at Armin lovingly. “You want my cock inside you?”

“Yeah...”

“Hmm.” He wants to. Oh boy does he want to. He’s been craving stimulation all this time, but he’s been far more concerned about meeting Armin’s needs rather than his own.

“I need it deeper,” Armin says, finally finishing his sentence.

“You’ll probably orgasm straight away if I do that,” Jean laughs. “After how good I’ve been making you feel so far.”

“I don’t care,” Armin says breathlessly. “F...” He’s not used to swearing and being vulgar, but he feels like the situation calls for it. “Fuck me, Jean! Fuck me... so hard!”

“Damn, you naughty little thing,” Jean says in a low voice, rubbing his sweet spot again. “Who knew that clever, sweet angel from Shiganshina was such a dirty, needy little kitten?”

“Unghh!” Armin moans, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ll come if you keep that up!”

“I could make you come all night if I wanted to,” Jean grins, his voice a seductive hiss.

“J... JEAN!” the boy screams, bending forwards and squeezing his legs together, his hands gripping at his crotch in a last ditch attempt to stop himself climaxing. It’s completely futile and he ejaculates all over Jean’s arm, moaning and sobbing, a million thoughts racing through his head all at once.

Jean almost comes beneath his clothes just watching him. It’s so hot, so arousing to see Armin losing his composure, losing that calm and serious equilibrium he so often harbours in the presence of others.

When he finally manages to calm himself, hot and damp all over, Jean pulls back his fingers and smiles kindly at him.

“Oh...” Armin whimpers.

“What?”

Armin hides his face yet again, as if he’s ashamed of losing himself within carnal desire. “I didn’t want to come yet!” he complains, rolling over so that his face is pressed into the pillow. “I wanted you to f-fuck me, Jean...”

Jean chuckles.

“It’s not funny,” the blonde pouts, his voice still muffled against the pillow.

“You’re always so cute when you orgasm.”

“I don’t care. I wanted to have sex! Why did you make me come so early? You did that deliberately!”

“Maybe I did,” Jean says sheepishly, admiring the bare, pert little backside in front of him. Armin seems to sense his gaze and rolls back over, drawing his legs up to cover his modesty.

“And don’t keep staring at my butt. If you want it that badly, you should have stopped and put your dick inside it.”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Jean sighs. “Of course I wanted to fuck you. There’s never a moment that I don’t want to. It’s just... it’s so adorable when you get moody, especially over sex. It’d be a waste not to tick you off.”

“It’s more of a waste not to have sex with me when you have the chance.”

“You always have to go one up, don’t you?” Jean laughs, laying down to rest against Armin after wiping down his arm with the tissue beside the bed. “Little devil. I don’t know if you’re an angel or a devil, or both.”

Armin pauses and looks up at him, big blue eyes glistening with a kind of love that he reserves only for Jean after he’s brought him the ecstasy he so badly craves.

“ _You’re_ the devil.”


	64. The Pushover and the Jerk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested! Sorry for the long wait!

Armin’s not sober. He’s not _wasted_ , but he can’t walk in a straight line no matter how hard he tries. He’s spent the last couple hours downing 6% alcohol beer, which he genuinely can’t stand the taste of and only drinks because he loves the sheer bliss of tipsiness.

Jean isn’t sober either. He’s a lot worse than Armin, which is very rare. The small, sweet blonde is quite the piss artist, contrary to his innocent and genuine demeanour. When it comes to alcohol, 99% of the time, it’ll be Armin who’s the one stumbling to his bed with poor Jean by his side.

Now the tables have turned, and Armin has no idea how to get Jean to sleep.

“Jean?” he calls, for what is about the fifth time. “Where are you! It’s half 2 in the morning and I’m tired! Come _on_.”

A muffled moan comes from somewhere in the dark.

“Jean?” Armin repeats, sighing.

“Aghn,” a voice groans. Armin steadily creeps closer, and in the very small amount of light that there is, can make out a couple of figures hunched up in the corner. He can hear something, something slightly wet and breathy, and it’s got him on alert.

“What...” he gasps, eyes wide as the pair of them snog in the corner. “Are you doing?”

“Fuck,” Jean murmurs drunkenly, trying to stand. He fails, and falls straight back to the floor, on top of the woman beside him.

“Jean?!” Armin sobs. “What the hell! This... this can’t be happening?!”

“‘M sowwy,” Jean slurs, his voice barely legible.

Armin begins to cry right on the spot.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” he whispers. “I’m dreaming, because this isn’t something you’d do, is it?” He’s staring in shock as Jean tries to get up. He manages it this time and passes a box of matches to Armin, who uses them to light the lamp on the table, trying to figure out what the hell is going on here.

Jean is slumped in the corner, barely even conscious, besides a tall, slim brunette Armin doesn’t know. She’s a member of the garrison, judging by the double rose emblem on her tan leather jacket that she’s been wearing all this time. She’s also rather drunk, but not as intoxicated as Jean, who’s been doing vodka shots all night.

“Baby,” Jean mumbles.

“No,” Armin snaps, still in shock. His loud voice stirs the girl in front of him.

“Who are you?” she whispers.

“I’m his partner.”

She widens her eyes. “You’re gay?”

“So what if I am!” Armin hollers, sobbing. “Doesn’t make our relationship any less valid! Get... get away from him, please!”

She scrambles upwards, startled. “My god,” she says, upset. “I... I had no idea! He never told me anything! He just stumbled over to me and asked to kiss, told me he was horny and everything! I-I never would have gone through with it if I’d known...”

Armin scrunches his eyes shut as if he’s trying to forget the images that have been burned into his head. “Just... let me handle this. Go away, please. Leave us alone.” He pauses, opening his eyes. “Before you leave, what’s your name?”

“Caroline,” she says shakily. “Caroline Fischer.”

“Okay, Caroline. I’m Armin Arlert. I understand you guys are under the influence, but I just need you to know that I’ve never felt so betrayed by anybody.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “He never told me anything...”

“Whatever. Just go,” Armin says, pissed off in every way possible. It’s very rare he’s this rude to anybody, but he’s so annoyed he feels like he’s on fire. He could punch a wall right now. Oh god, the things he could do. Maybe he should just go and beat the shit out of his pillow to release his pent up frustration. That’d be better than beating the shit out of Jean, who’s so drunk he doesn’t even know where he is, let alone what he’s been doing.

The woman quickly leaves, obviously extremely embarrassed. Jean falls back down, almost as if in relief.

Armin’s never seen or heard of her before, and the fact that she’s rather attractive has him even more annoyed for some reason.

“Armin?” Jean murmurs, almost falling forwards.

“Go to bed,” Armin tells him.

“Help me up.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, please, I didn’t... I didn’t know. It’s okay. I had the urge n’ I know it was wrong. I’ll apologise. I’m sorry. Grab... my hand for me. I’ll go bed.”

“You’re speaking like a child,” Armin sighs.

“Hold my hand. Help me up.”

“No!”

“Baby,” Jean moans.

“Stop that crap already and just go get some sleep,” Armin says. “I’m tired, and you are too. And I’m not just tired, I’m extremely hurt as well. I’m going to sleep. Are you coming or not?”

“Yeah... I am,” Jean replies, staggering forwards. He grabs Armin’s wrist, but the smaller flicks it away.

“Please don’t touch me right now.”

“Sorry.”

“You know... you’re never gonna live this down,” Armin says as they wander to their room, planning to sleep by himself on the sofa. The thought of sleeping next to his lover after what he’s done just makes him want to cry his eyes out.

“I know. I don’t... know what came over me. I was wrong, I’m so sorry, I never thought I’d do that.”

Armin’s just about fed up of his slurred, broken speech that’s hard to even make out.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

* * *

He wakes up with a sore neck, a headache so bad that it feels like someone is splitting his head open with an axe, a mouth so dry he can’t even speak, and bloodshot eyes that practically terrify him when he looks in the mirror.

 _That’s the last time I’m sleeping on that damn sofa_ , he thinks, annoyed.

It’s a wonder he even managed to fall asleep on something so rough and bumpy.

He peeks into their room, seeing Jean still asleep. He’s laid down on his back with his mouth open, arms splayed out, the duvet pushed down to his waist. He’s still wearing the clothes he wore last night, a faint stain on the front of his top. He looks terrible.

Armin hopes he feels terrible too.

It takes two full glasses of water for him to be able to even talk. He’s never been this thirsty in his entire life. He feels so awful, so run down. _So this is a hangover_ , he thinks angrily, doing his best to stomach a small slice of bread with butter spread on top. _My dad wasn’t lying when he told me how bad they can be._

He considers waking Jean up, but he has a bad feeling he might wake up still drunk. After all, he _was_ in a terrible state last night, and he knows Jean doesn’t process alcohol all that well.

They’re free for a short while today. They don’t need to be ready until 3pm, which is when they’ll begin their two day training exercise. It’s going to involve a long journey on horseback, sleeping bags, forests, and a guaranteed degree of awkwardness.

It’s almost 10am now, and Armin’s still pretty convinced he and Jean aren’t going to be in a fit state for later. For one, they’re bound to end up arguing about last night. And two, the pair of them have hangovers from hell.

It’s another twenty minutes until Armin hears a groan from their room. Jean wanders towards where Armin’s sat near the fire.

“Hey,” he greets him, sitting beside him. “You okay, baby?”

“Don’t give me that,” Armin grunts, glaring. Jean looks shocked.

“Wh... what?” he asks nervously. “What’s up?”

“You know what’s up.”

“I actually don’t.”

“You’re telling me you were so pissed up you don’t remember a single thing?”

Jean turns pale. “Wait... did I do something last night?”

“Damn right you did something last night.”

“Oh god.” Jean reaches over and grabs a slice of bread, trying to bite into it before realising his throat is so dry it’s almost stuck together. “Oh my god... whatever I did, I’m so, so sorry. I’m scared to ask. Was it really bad? Did I... I didn’t hit you, did I? Are you hurt?”

“Not physically,” Armin says.

“Did I call you something horrible?”

“No. But I felt like calling you something horrible.”

“Shit.” Jean hides his face, sighing and bending forwards, elbows on his lap. “What was I doing?”

“You were making out with a girl called Caroline. I don’t know who she is. She’s a member of the garrison.”

Jean sits up straight in shock. “Are you kidding me?!”

“No, Jean,” the blonde says, staring at him intently. “I’m not kidding. You were sat in the dark full-on kissing her. I could hear it, see it, everything. Apparently she only did it because she didn’t know you were in a relationship.”

“I don’t even remember her name, what she looked like, anything about her. I don’t even remember doing it.”

“I’m not lying,” Armin says. “You did.”

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck!” Jean almost yells, thumping his thighs out of anger directed towards himself. “Oh god, I’m a bastard! I’m an asshole! Armin, I’m not joking here, I want you to beat me up. Or... if you hate me, you can leave me. I’d understand. I believe you. I-I’m not gonna ask for mercy. I don’t deserve it after what I’ve done...”

Armin shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you. Yet.”

Jean breathes a big sigh of relief, but still feels horrible inside. “Armin... as much as it’d destroy me, I won’t blame you if you do. Not after what I did.”

“Hmm,” Armin murmurs thoughtfully.

“How do I fix this?” Jean whispers in despair.

“It’ll fix itself, but for now there’s nothing that can be done about the fact that you feel terrible and I feel like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Do you hate me right now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, christ.”

Both secretly hope they aren’t on eachother’s teams for the exercise later on.

* * *

It’s been over a week. Eren has never felt as pissed at Jean as he does now. Mikasa is still fuming quietly to herself, uttering about how she’s gonna beat Jean’s ass for hurting her little Armin, for breaking his trust like that.

“Leave him,” Eren tries to convince him. “He’s an asshole anyway. _And_ he looks like a horse.”

“I am _not_ leaving him,” Armin says. “As much as I’m upset, I love him. Immensely. He would never do something like that if he was in a normal state of mind.”

“You think drunkenness is an excuse?” Eren says, deliberately raising his voice in the hopes that Jean will hear.

“No I don’t. And keep your voice down. I’m just saying that he was an entirely different person that night. He wasn’t _Jean_ , Eren. The Jean Kirschtein we know would never do that, as much as you think he’s a bad person.”

“Then who the hell was it?” Eren asks sarcastically.

Armin shakes his head. “Never mind, Eren. I’m just saying... even if I hate what he’s done, I don’t hate _him_. I love him tremendously. And I’m going to help make things right.”

“He’s the one who needs to make things right! Don’t be a pushover,” Eren says desperately, looking upset. “You’ve always been... such a... a kind person, Armin. You’ve always been too kind and forgiving. This time I want you to stand up for yourself. Stop letting everyone walk all over you and _fight,_ dammit! If you can’t fight, you can’t win!”

Armin blinks in surprise. For a moment he feels like his ten year old self, back at home by the river, the pair of them making wishes as they threw tiny pebbles into the water.

“I’ve been fighting for all this time,” Armin suddenly says. “You just can’t see it. I fight by defending myself, Eren. I don’t know exactly what you want me to do, but I’m not going to wander over to Jean and beat the crap out of him like you would. I’m going to wait, calm down, and have a talk when the time is right.”

* * *

If Jean didn’t think Mikasa was all that scary before, he does now.

She’s got _that_ look about her, whenever Jean happens to walk past while Armin is with her and Eren. She’s got the _my-speciality-is-slicing-meat_ look about her and it’s nothing short of terrifying.

Armin doesn’t seem so angry anymore. Of course he’s not forgotten - Armin never really forgets anything that happens to him - but he’s a lot calmer than before, and he keeps trying to convince Mikasa that she doesn’t have to be so menacing just to protect him.

“He wants to talk to you,” he hears the dark-haired girl say one evening, out of the blue. He glances up. She’s standing holding a tray of food, about to sit down. She isn’t looking at him.

“Right,” Jean says nervously. “Do I... do I just go over and sit by him?”

“Do whatever you have to do to make him feel better.”

“Okay...” He gets up, shaking slightly. He’s worried he’s going to drop his food and make an idiot of himself.

“Just so you know,” Mikasa begins again, still not looking at him while she takes a seat. “If it means protecting those who I love, I don’t care about being punished if I ever have to go to extremes.”

 _This girl is insane_ , Jean thinks anxiously. He doesn’t dare reply.

He sits down besides Armin, who turns his head and smiles gently. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey. I... oh god. I don’t know if I can do this,” Jean says, almost crying. “I feel so horrible, Armin. For betraying you like that.”

“I felt horrible, too... and still do,” the smaller says. “But... I don’t hate you, Jean. I don’t hate anyone, really. I only hate immoral behaviour. Not those who carry those actions out.”

“Even if you did hate me, I’d totally understand.”

“But I don’t, and I seriously doubt I ever will.”

Jean just nods slightly and takes a bite of his food, realising he’s going to have to down it at some point, as unappetising as it is. It tastes nasty.

“Do you still love me?”

“I do, yeah. A lot.”

“How can that be possible after what you saw me doing?”

“Because I’m a pushover, I guess,” Armin says, sighing and smiling. “And because I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re unique, and it’d be a shame for me to throw everything away like that, even if you did hurt me.”

“I’m not unique. There’s loads of smug, angry punks like me amongst these ranks. We’re all the same and we all suck as human beings. I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe you don’t, but I deserve you,” Armin says, smiling warmly.

Jean bursts into tears and throws his arms around him on the spot. A few people turn around or glance over, curious to see what’s going on, but neither can be bothered to care about that right now.

“Ah!” Armin exclaims as his cup of water spills onto the floor, knocked by one of Jean’s arms as he’d wrapped them around him, barely even consciously.

“Sorry,” Jean whispers, holding him tight. “Not just for knocking that over, aha. I’m sorry. So sorry for what happened that night. You know, I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself, but you... you’re so forgiving and sweet and that’s all I need. Fuck, Armin. You’ve got the patience of a saint. You’re the definition of an angel. I can’t believe I hurt you. I... I hurt someone so sweet and I hate myself for it.”

“Don’t worry,” Armin whispers, eyes glistening with tears. “I hate myself, too.”

“But you’re not the one who got so drunk he thought it’d be okay to betray the light of his life.”

“Maybe not, but I’m a weakling who lets everyone walk all over him, so I think hating myself is justified.”

Jean shakes his head at this, a tear spilling down his cheek.

He opens his eyes and sees a few of his friends watching them, Eren sat with his chin on his palm, Mikasa sat upright on alert.

“You know... even if we hate ourselves,” the blonde says, knowing full well the others can hear them, “I don’t think it really matters. I think we can still be okay even if we hate ourselves, as long as we love eachother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it sad that that ending actually touched me even though I’m the one who wrote it?! I had no idea I was able to come up with anything philosophical or emotional like that. I don’t know, I feel like crying. Maybe I just love these two so much and that’s why.


	65. The Future Commander of the Survey Corps

He pushes Jean right through the doorway and onto the sofa, not saying a word. The sweet, seemingly innocent man is smirking a little, eyes sparkling, face fixated on Jean’s.

“What-“ Jean begins, but Armin’s cute face makes him crumble. He gives in and sighs happily, slouching, splaying himself out.

Armin looks down at Jean’s slim but strong, firm thighs and a smile appears on his face. He wraps his hands around them and gently squeezes. It’s extremely ticklish and sensitive somehow and Jean shrieks.

“Don’t!” he groans, laughing and tugging Armin’s hands away. “That feels so weird.”

“Sorry,” Armin apologises.

“Touch me elsewhere,” Jean says quietly.

Straight after he says this, Armin lets out a deep, long breath, which sounds extremely provocative and sensual, far more sensual than an innocent man like Armin Arlert should sound.

“Oh, god,” Jean gasps. He instantly feels his cock jerk just from hearing it.

Armin smiles deviously and does it again after taking a deep breath.

It could hardly even be considered a sigh. It’s more of a “Unghhhh”, more of a breathy, provocative, cute moan than anything. Armin knows exactly what he’s doing to Jean and that’s driving the brunet absolutely crazy.

Accompanied by a few more (extremely arousing) gasps, moans and sighs, Armin makes quick work of Jean’s clothing. He tucks his fingers into the belt loop of his trousers and pulls the small bar of metal away, shimmying them off of the man’s gorgeous, masculine, strong legs. Jean Kirschtein is so fucking beautiful.

Armin eyes his boner through his underwear for a second before looking back up at Jean with a filthy, erotic and absolutely gorgeous look in those big shiny blue eyes of his.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jean says weakly.

“Good,” the blonde replies before yanking down Jean’s underwear to his upper thighs and freeing his large, hard penis.

Armin shows zero mercy.

“Lay down flat,” he commands, pushing Jean’s upper torso downwards until he’s beneath him. He tugs off his underwear completely, tossing it to the side, leaving him helplessly exposed with no other option than to give in to what he wants so badly.

“Oh,” Jean groans, extremely aroused. Armin would never strike him as a dom. He knows that Armin is rather quiet and submissive, but that fact only makes this rare situation so much better, the thought of his partner suddenly overcoming his shyness and taking control. It’s like something out of an erotic novel in which the shy character turns out to be an absolute animal in the bedroom.

Those attractive, golden-brown eyes of his suddenly widen in surprise when he sees that Armin’s stripping himself too, shoving down the clothing on his lower torso until his thighs, calves and genitalia are exposed. He’s smirking deviously (in reality, it’s more of a cute smile than anything) while he crawls closer to Jean and tilts the brunet’s head back.

“Open your mouth,” Armin tells him firmly, and the sound of his voice has Jean moaning like an absolute whore. He’s so turned on he can hardly register his words.

“Open. Your. Mouth,” Armin demands, and this time Jean complies, growing harder at the sound of the blonde giving him orders like this. It’s hot. _It is so so fucking hot._

Armin thrusts into Jean’s mouth, eliciting a slight gag from the latter, but he knows it’s nothing he can’t handle. He fucks his mouth with sheer dominance, moaning obscenely while he reaches down to grab Jean’s cock, his hot and slightly sweaty hand running down it fluidly.

“Mmn!” Jean moans around Armin, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Wider,” Armin hisses, thrusting particularly deep, almost deeper than Jean thinks he can take. “Open wider.”

Jean obeys and Armin whines with pleasure, increasing the pace of his thrusts, practically shivering at how good the hot soaking cavity feels around his shaft. Jean is actually drooling saliva and the slightest amount of precum, Armin’s thrusts pushing the liquid out of the sides of his mouth.

Jean gently clasps his hands around Armin’s thighs. They’re warm, soft and smooth, and feel like silk wrapped around his head and neck. The hard organ that’s shoved down his throat is a sharp contrast against Armin’s soft skin. He’s so deep that Jean’s face is pressed against the soft blonde curls above his cock, and he’s so aroused by Armin’s gorgeous scent that he’s pretty sure he could climax like this, with just the hand that lazily runs up and down his own leaking, tender erection.

“Fuck, Jean,” Armin moans, and the profanity would have Jean gasping and panting if he didn’t currently have flesh ramming down his throat. “How’d you manage this? How do you not gag? I... g-god... I can hardly take yours, Jean. How did you get so g-good at this? I can... hardly talk. Oh my god, it feels so good. Jean...”

He feels Armin’s cock twitch a little and his thighs contract slightly as they’re pressed against his skin. The hand on his own member pumps him faster, almost draining him completely, but he manages to hold on until after Armin’s ejaculated down his throat, his cock pulsating and twitching as he releases his seed. It feels so hot and thick in his mouth. It’s salty, very salty, and not quite as bitter as his own. It flows down his throat and he swallows as efficiently as he can with the blonde’s organ still in his mouth.

Armin sighs contentedly and eventually pulls out, quickly softening after his orgasm. Jean’s gasping and moaning, shaking all over, so sensitive in every area of his body that he feels like the slightest touch will make him flinch. He’s never had an orgasm while giving oral before - well, it was more like _receiving_ a good fucking in the mouth than anything - and he feels so light, so giddy. He feels _so good_.

Armin throws his head back and laughs lightheartedly.

“I never knew bossing someone around could be so much fun.”

“I... didn’t expect that,” Jean says breathlessly. “I didn’t expect that at all, baby.”

“Did you like it?”

Jean grins and deliberately takes his time in answering just to see Armin looking at him anxiously.

“Damn right I liked it. Oh. Oh my god, Armin. You, you’re such a sexy little thing. You turn me on like nothing else ever has before.”

“Truth be told,” Armin says, “that was a lot of hard work... but it sure felt good.”

“Never in my life did I think I’d submit to anyone so easily.”

“Never in my life did I think I could be so dominating.”

Jean tugs on his arm, pulling him towards him. “You devil,” he whispers into his hair, hands running up and down his sides. “You just can’t be tamed, can you?”

“Neither can you,” Armin laughs.

Jean wonders what could have given Armin the confidence to be like this all of a sudden.

Armin wonders what could have given Jean the softheartedness to be like this all of a sudden.

It’s something that happens very rarely, but when it does happen, Jean loses every single bit of those confrontational, dominating and aggressive mannerisms of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit random for me to put here, but I’ve just been looking at all the comments on this ficlet collection and I am smiling like a total idiot right now because of how happy all this feedback makes me. I’m pretty sure I’ve been writing this for a year now, and the fact that people actually enjoy what I’ve been creating makes me so damn happy. Writing, literature and linguistics is something I have a natural talent for, which is why I want to become a published author someday, but I didn’t think I’d ever be able to create fanfiction that people liked! Thank you so much, guys. I still can’t believe I’m actually creating something that people love! It almost doesn’t seem real to me. <3


	66. Sanctity of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin is very kind.

Armin’s been up to something lately. He disappears for a short while somewhere between six and ten virtually every night now. He’s usually gone for less than an hour, but people have noticed that it’s turned into a routine, especially Jean, Mikasa and Eren.

And on top of that, almost every night, Jean hears these _sounds_. He’s pretty sure it’s just another rat or something, but it’s awfully loud from where he’s laid with the side of his head pressed against the low bed on the bottom bunk. There’s the occasional scratching and scrabbling and a few peeping sounds. Oftentimes it’ll suddenly get louder, nearer, and wake him up with a jolt.

 _It must be underneath the floorboards somewhere_ , he thinks irritably. He’s too scared to try and look. _I’m gonna get Armin or Eren to sort this out_ , he decides, wrapping the pillow over the sides of his head only for the scratching and scrabbling to get louder.

* * *

As much as he’d rather be doing something else, he makes it a plan to wander out during the evening, hoping he’ll find it outside so he can get rid of the damn thing. _This is so pointless_ , Jean thinks, ducking around behind the backs of the buildings, trying to avoid the light. Everyone else is sat inside eating dinner, and there’s no way people haven’t noticed that he’s missing. Sooner or later, someone will come looking.

There’s a quiet rustle from a few feet away and Jean freezes. _Shit_ , he thinks, swallowing hard. _From the way I’m sneaking around, someone’s gonna think I’m trying to steal something_.

“This is all I have today,” a voice murmurs softly. There’s the sound of a paper bag crinkling quietly. “I’m sorry.”

 _What the hell?_ Jean thinks.

There’s the sound of something heavy rolling over, like a stone, and then another rustle. And then comes the loud peeping and chirping of baby birds.

“Shhh. Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay now, I’m here. Shhhh,” the voice hushes. It sounds as though they’re pouring something into their hand. “If you’re too loud, a cat might find you or something.”

Feeling braver, Jean creeps closer to see a figure knelt outside a small hole in the wall hidden by a piece of ragged cloth. He wonders who’d be nice enough to give up any amount of what little free time they have to look after a family of birds. The figure looks quite small, and he can’t yet tell if they’re female or male.

He puts two and two together, and gasps after realising who it is, shocked to see Armin out here in the dark tending to baby animals.

The figure in the dark turns in alarm. “Who’s there?” he hisses.

“It’s Jean,” he replies foolishly.

Armin pauses.

“H-how did you find out about this?” he asks anxiously.

“I kept hearing these noises while I was in bed and I wanted to find out what it was.”

“Ah.” Then Armin seems alarmed again. “Wait, how do I know you’re really Jean?”

“What?”

“You might just be saying that you’re Jean because you know I like Jean, and you’re trying to lure me out and get me into trouble or something.”

“What, no!” Jean says, far louder than intended. “No, dammit! I was just curious to see what was going on out here, and here you were! Armin, it’s _me!_ ”

“Hmm.” Armin pauses, putting down the paper bag he’s been holding. “In that case, what’s your favourite food? I’m sure only Jean himself would know for real.”

“Omelettes.”

Armin laughs with relief. “Yep,” he says, striking a match and using it to light his torch. “You’re Jean, alright.”

The brunet carefully wanders closer, grinning. “So,” he begins, pulling back the cloth to reveal a nest full of birds. “You’ve been seeing these little guys everyday?”

“Yes.”

“So that’s what the scratching noise was. I thought it was a rat living under the floorboards. It seemed really loud.”

“I was hoping nobody would hear them,” Armin admits. “I was scared someone horrible would come along and hurt them or something. You know how some people can be.”

“Ah.” Jean may look like a bit of a bully, but never in his life would he lay his hands on an animal. “Now that you mention it, you have a point.”

The pair sit down on the pebbled floor, cut grass making its way up their trousers, specks of mud coating the palms of their hands. Armin scoots closer to Jean and sighs, almost falling onto his lap. “I thought I’d be taking care of these lot alone forever,” he says as they peer into the hole. There are five tiny birds, six in total including a much larger one which seems to be their mother, or perhaps their father. Three of the baby birds are sat on a slight angle, and another one is missing several feathers from its wings. The other baby seems fine, albeit very restless.

“What happened to them?” Jean asks. “Why are they like that?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Armin says. “I think some of them have broken legs. I doubt they could survive like this. That’s why I put them in here. I gave them materials and they just sort of built it up on their own. I don’t really know anything about caring for birds, but... I could tell they were in trouble, and I hoped I could be of some help.”

“That’s so unbelievably sweet,” Jean says, feeling like he’s just lost some of his masculinity but not even caring a thing about it.

Armin smiles in the dim lighting. “I give them water and feed them, too. Look.” He shows Jean the bag, which contains a few seeds that he’d picked out of the seeded granary bread they sometimes got with breakfast, a few crumbs and some pieces of chopped fruit that look rather stale. There’s a small pot of water in the corner, which Jean can guess he refills everyday. “Not like there’s much good food I can give them in a place like this.”

“You angel,” Jean whispers.

Armin giggles happily, the compliment sending warmth all throughout him.

“These are the things I love about you, Armin.”

The blonde is unable to stop himself from smiling. He buries his face into Jean’s shoulder and sighs, reaching out to roll the paper bag back up.

“Want me to put this stone back where it was before?” Jean offers. “So that this sheet is covering their nest?”

Armin nods sleepily.

Jean sighs. “Don’t tell me you’ve been spending so much time out here that you haven’t been sleeping properly?”

“Mm. Maybe,” Armin murmurs, closing his eyes.

“Come on,” Jean says, trying to stand up, but Armin doesn’t stop clinging onto him. “We need to get back before there’s no food left.”

“Ah... I’m not too hungry.”

“Please, baby.”

“I want to stay here.”

“They’re safe,” Jean says, glancing back towards the hole which is completely covered. “And they’ve got food and water. They’ll heal in no time if you keep giving them good food.”

“They’re just so cute,” Armin mumbles against Jean’s chest.

“And so are you,” Jean laughs, “which is why I’d like you to come back inside with me.”

He hoists him up properly, which elicits a gasp of surprise from Armin. “Ahn!” he whines, legs wrapped around Jean’s hips. “Jean! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he giggles.

Armin sighs, instantly giving in. “Hahh,” he breathes, holding on tight as he’s carried back, still looking behind him at the new home he’s made for the birds. “Ah, Jean.”

“I didn’t... realise you were this kind,” Jean says as he carries him in the dark, so gently, so carefully. “Ahh. Oh, my little sweetheart. _Oh_ , I love you so much.”

“Couldn’t just let them die,” Armin says, voice muffled against Jean’s chest.

Now he’s so glad he went out to see what the noise was all about.

“You may just be the sweetest boy in this world, Armin Arlert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “A Choice with no Regrets” helped inspire this. Oh, how I loved Isabelle :(


	67. Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin realises he has a bit of a humiliation kink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out really short. I planned it to be longer, but the ending just fitted perfectly so I left it like this.

Jean watches Armin. The blonde finished running not too long ago and now his face is flushed, a faint, pink patch accentuating each pale cheek. His neck is a little flushed too, travelling right down beneath his shirt. Jean smiles to himself at the thought of the sweet body beneath the man’s clothing.

The flush reminds Jean of how Armin looks when he suddenly goes shy, or when they’re in the middle of something really passionate and he suddenly realises how filthily he’s behaving. It even reminds him of the occasions when Armin will sit there and pout, annoyed over something silly, his cheeks tinted with heat.

And when he gets drunk - oh, those sweet little pink patches that always come with the giggly and confident behaviour, the kind that leads them straight to their bedroom, the pair stripping off as soon as they close the door - it drives Jean so crazy that he could faint. It’ll spread right down to his chest when they make love while drunk, a little like the exhaustion induced colour decorating the boy’s skin as of now.

He’d love to just reach over and plant a kiss on each cheek, which he knows would feel much hotter to the touch than usual. Of course, he knows better than to do it somewhere like _here_. Not many people know about their relationship. The two have easily come to the conclusion that a number of their peers happen to be intolerant of same-sex relationships, perhaps due to the way they’d been brought up, or maybe due to the fact that they just couldn’t fathom anything they were not used to.

Damn right, he knows better than to embarrass poor Armin. _Of course_ he knows better.

“Hey. Hey, Armin,” Jean whispers.

Armin looks up. “Yes?”

And then Jean’s voice gets purposely louder, loud enough for anyone around them to hear if they happened to be listening. “Come meet me after dinner, baby boy. I feel like having some fun in bed.”

Armin widens his eyes with embarrassment. If his cheeks weren’t already flushed, they would be now. Jean can’t even tell whether or not it’s his imagination that’s telling him they’ve suddenly grown darker in colour.

“I... I told you not to talk like that around other people,” he hisses.

Jean just smirks. “Alright, baby boy.”

A couple of huge, macho soldiers turn around from where they’re sat, overhearing everything, and all of a sudden the small blonde wishes the floor would swallow him whole. So much blood goes to his face that he feels a bit dizzy.

He sits there in silence, spooning the chicken and bean stew into his mouth. It’s actually quite tasty.

Jean is still watching, chin on his palm, admiring Armin while he eats.

“Stop it,” Armin hisses.

“Mmm,” Jean murmurs seductively. “Damn, you’re fine as hell, sweetheart.”

“Stop watching me eat.”

“But you’re so cute when you eat, my sweet baby boy.”

“Don’t call me that here. I’m n-not in the mood!”

“Oh, I’ll get you in the mood, baby. Once you’ve finished that, you can come over to my bunk and eat my dick as passionately as you’re eating that soup.”

Armin looks around in desperation, face on fire, but pupils blown with excitement all the same.

“If you carry on this way,” Armin mumbles with food in his mouth, “you won’t get any loving from me for the next two weeks.”

Jean can’t take this threat seriously as soon as he looks under the table and sees the hardest erection he’s ever seen tenting the front of the boy’s trousers.


	68. Perturbed

It’s not the first time Armin’s witnessed someone else enduring the terror of a panic attack. They’re not exactly uncommon within the military, for obvious reasons. Anyone could perish at any given time, and sometimes the thought of that is just too much pressure.

It’s the night before they seal the hole in Wall Maria, and Armin has never seen Jean like this. He’s experienced his attempts at concealing his nervousness before, but this is on a whole new level. All those other situations had revolved around some kind of immediate catastrophe, the death of a comrade, or some other impending doom in the terror of the moment.

This is more the overflow of built up anxiety than anything else. Everybody is terrified of what’s to come - they know exactly who they’re up against, and they don’t have the benefit of the titans’ stupidity and general animalistic behaviour this time around. Their opponents are humans now, and former friends at that.

Armin’s scared of saying or doing the wrong thing. Jean is curled up on his bed, out of breath, shivering and sobbing, and it’s torturous to watch. If he walks over and touches him, who knows what’ll happen? Everything has hit him all at once and he’s in the midst of a waking nightmare.

The man is aware of his own pounding, throbbing heart, of the sweat that lines his forehead and back in a soaking, hot layer. He’s going to die. His pathetic, short life is going to end without him ever having seen what’s waiting for him beyond, without him ever seeing the fascinating world Eren and Armin always talk about at night, without him ever truly doing anything he’s ever wanted to.

Armin finally musters up the courage to try and help. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. “It’s me.”

Jean opens his eyes and looks up, still filled with dread. He feels like he’s suffocating. “No,” he whimpers, like he’s asking for mercy.

The blonde carefully sits down beside him. Truth is, he isn’t feeling so brilliant himself.

“It’s me. I’m here.”

“No!” Jean shouts, grabbing the sides of his head in desperation. “NO! Armin... just go away! I can’t take this! Leave me alone please I can’t stand it anymore I’m going to fucking die I want to fucking hurt myself I want to-“

Armin backs away slowly but looks at him, extremely worried.

“Ah...” he whispers, at a loss for words.

“Leave me alone!” Jean yells, punching the pillow.

“H-hey!” Armin says shakily. “Jean! Please, please don’t be so scared, it’s just me, I’m here, I’m not gonna do any-“

“SHUT UP!”

Armin jumps, startled. He doesn’t actually remember the last time he heard Jean yell.

Armin takes a deep breath. He knows he shouldn’t try again, but seeing the one he loves so stressed is just awful.

“Jean,” he says very softly, after a few minutes of silence.

“Wuh...”

His voice sounds lazy and slurred, the opposite of how he usually sounds. He’s not his usual forward, brash self.

“Please don’t let yourself suffer like this, Jean... let me help.”

“You can’t help me.” He turns over onto his stomach.

Armin sighs, wondering how the heck he’s going to make this better. “What exactly is bothering you?” he whispers, his hand lightly resting itself on the back of his lover’s head.

“I’m basically dead.”

“How?”

“This is my last real day on earth, Armin. I’m going to be slaughtered like damn cattle tomorrow.”

“Not as long as you’re within my reach,” Armin says, despite knowing full well he’s not strong enough to protect somebody like Jean and himself at the same time. He can barely even protect himself alone.

Armin suddenly clears his throat. “I’m really going to give it my best tomorrow,” he says. “If you know what I mean. So that you won’t have to worry about dying.” He doesn’t want to explain himself outright for fear of making Jean feel even worse.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that... ahem. I’ll do literally anything it takes to protect you guys and give Eren an opportunity to seal the hole. Literally anything. No matter what it costs me. I’m prepared to throw myself straight into the afterlife.”

Jean sits up and stares at him, shocked. “Don’t even think about sacrificing yourself,” he warns him shakily.

“I’m just saying, if you’re in any danger, I have no issues with using myself as a shield for you.”

Jean shakes his head.

“It’s the least I can do,” Armin says softly. “You’re lying here sweating and shaking because of the bloodbath we’re going to have to face tomorrow, and if there’s anything I can do to ease your mind, this is it.”

“I could seriously never forgive you if you went and died of your own accord just for my survival. Or anyone else’s.”

“Then fine,” Armin says calmly, far too calmly for someone who’s convinced he’ll lose his life tomorrow. “You don’t have to forgive me. What I’m saying is, Jean, you don’t have to be worried right now because there’s always a person who will throw themselves in front of you in the face of danger. That person is me.”

“Armin... I’m not feeling better after hearing that,” Jean says uneasily.

“Sorry.”

“Just let me go if it’s my time. I need to stop sobbing and accept it.”

“You’re accepting defeat and we haven’t even started?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Armin tells him sternly. Jean doesn’t reply. Instead, he sits up and spreads himself out, in an almost inviting manner. He waits for Armin to come closer, but the blonde is far too apprehensive to do so.

“I need a hug,” Jean says.

Armin nods solemnly. “Yeah,” he says. “To be honest, I figured you would.”

Then he pounces on him like a cat after spotting a small rodent, diving into Jean’s arms as if it’s all he’s worth. He knocks him back down onto the bed and kisses him, holding him close, gently squeezing until he feels the tense muscles slowly relax beneath his touch.

His rapid breathing gradually slows into more controlled, rhythmic pants. When Armin presses the side of his head to Jean’s chest and listens closely, he can just make out the gradually slowing pace of his heart, which was racing abnormally fast just a few minutes ago.

“You really aren’t going to die, Jean.”

The words themselves barely sink in, but the sound of Armin’s voice does. It floods straight into his ears and down his spine, comforting him so rapidly that it makes him shiver.

* * *

Jean falls asleep like that.

He dreams of the Armoured Titan. He’s somewhere in Shiganshina trapped under a rock, and Reiner’s titan is coming for him, the familiar terrifying thudding of the ground triggering every animal instinct within him. _Get out. Get out now. You’re going to die._

His glowing eyes stare down at him, analysing him and his fear. Jean knows that Reiner knows he has to crush his former friends to death if they have any hope of restraining Yeager and taking him back with them. That’s just the way it is now.

Armin watches Jean with pity as he fidgets and gasps in his sleep, breath raspy, hands tugging this way and that as if he’s trying to escape from something. 

_He’s dreaming of tomorrow,_ he thinks. _Right now, in Jean’s mind, he’s in the midst of a losing battle, probably about to die. That’s his reality right now. That’s all he knows._

It’s cruel, but Armin doesn’t wake him. He’s woken Jean from nightmares before, only for him to kick and scream and push him away. He’s gotten more than enough bruises from Jean’s night terrors to not know better than to leave him. It’s all he can do.

Maybe holding him won’t hurt. He’s not still, but Armin’s not so weak that he can’t wrap his arms around him gently. So he does that, sneaking closer until he’s carefully spooning Jean from behind, lips pressed against his hair. His hands run up and down his side and stomach in an attempt to soothe him.

Jean stills at this. He’s still asleep, but all of a sudden he’s calmer, quieter. Somewhere in his subconsciousness, he can feel the familiar, unique, unbearably soft touch of his lover, and it overrides the horror of the imaginary titan inside his head.

When he wakes up, it’s finally time to go.


	69. Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is soooo dirty... geez. I’m so ashamed of what I’m capable of coming up with when it comes to this ship. This is literally filthy holy shit

“There’s something annoying you, isn’t there?”

“No.”

“Yes there is.”

“There really isn’t,” Armin lies.

“But you look so agitated and uncomfortable. As if there’s something bothering you. What is it?” Jean asks.

“Let me deal with it.”

“Are you... hungry?” Jean suggests. Armin shakes his head, sighing.

“Too hot or cold?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“No.”

“Horny?”

“No.”

“Then what’s up?”

“Let me sort it out,” Armin says, climbing under the covers. Jean laughs, turning around.

“I’m not stupid, ya know,” the brunet sniggers. “I know what you’re doing under there.”

“What, _sleeping?_ ” Armin mocks. “It’s been a long day.”

“Beds aren’t just for sleeping,” Jean reminds him. “Alright then. If you’re just trying to sleep, why not resurface so I can watch?” He wanders over and Armin shrieks. “Ah!” he cries out, trying to pull the duvet back down towards himself, but Jean’s much stronger.

He glances down at Armin, grinning. “I knew it,” he says. He’s laid down on his stomach, hand shoved down the front of his trousers, eyes squeezed shut with embarrassment.

“I did ask if you were horny, you know.”

“Yeah, and I said I wasn’t because it’s not fair of me to keep relying on you.”

“What? Armin, seriously?” Jean giggles. “You still don’t know me after all this time, do you? Fuck, baby, you have no idea. I _want_ you to tell me you’re horny. I get so goddamn excited when you’re craving pleasure. You still don’t realise that, do you?”

“I do,” Armin tells him, “but it doesn’t seem right that I rely on you all the time.”

“The fact that you rely on me for satisfaction is literally one of the things I love about us being together,” Jean says. “I’m serious. When you want sex, tell me. I’ll take any chance I can to get intimate with you, because I love it so much. It’s my favourite thing. How have you still not realised how exciting it is for me to bring you up to climax?”

Armin just presses his face into the pillow, and Jean takes a seat beside him. He smoothes down his hair, hand travelling all the way down his back and then up again.

“You have a lot of insecurities, don’t you?” Jean asks gently. Armin nods. “Particularly ones about feeling like a burden. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Mmm,” Armin agrees. There’s a short pause, in which all he can hear is Jean’s slightly-heavier-than-usual breathing. He doesn’t look up.

“Wanna fuck?”

Armin stays quiet, deliberately putting Jean on edge. _Of course I want to fuck,_ he thinks, grinning. _I’m a teenage boy in a homosexual relationship. Not only that, I’m a bottom. I’d let him fuck me all day._

“Yeah,” the blonde eventually replies, sitting up. He sounds so soft and sweet, particularly in contrast to the filthy thoughts currently spreading through his head like wildfire. He really can be a dirty little thing when he wants to be.

Jean’s grinning as he scoots over until he’s looming over Armin, pushing downwards against his back until they’re pressed together. Armin fidgets and almost tries to squirm out from beneath him, desperately turned on.

“Mmf. So good,” Jean moans as he ruts up against Armin’s backside, grabbing his waist. Armin groans when he feels his erection poking against him, pushing between his ass cheeks through his trousers, making him shiver.

Jean takes a shaky breath, so turned on it’s making him dizzy. He begins to suck against the soft skin on the back of Armin’s neck, pushing away the unbearably soft, overgrown straw-coloured hair there and tilting his head to kiss and nip against the side, his heart pounding when Armin whines with anticipation.

He yanks down his garments without warning, and Armin gasps, suddenly met by Jean’s hot, throbbing cock grinding against his backside while he proceeds to suck against his neck. His breath is so hot and soft, ghosting over his skin as he slides his cock back and forth between his cheeks with ease.

He hasn’t even touched him properly, and Armin can barely think, can barely fathom where he is, or what’s lead up to this. Jean’s body, even while still clothed with just his cock out of his trousers, feels so red hot and soft and firm all at once against him, absolute perfection. He doesn’t ever want him to stop.

_Please put it in now,_ Armin begs in his mind. _Put it in put it in put it in._

Jean raises himself then, and for a moment Armin grumbles with annoyance. “Lie back down on me,” he asks. “That... that was so nice...”

“Hush,” Jean chuckles, reaching down to smack his hand against Armin’s butt, forcing the latter to yelp. “You don’t get to have an attitude with me, baby boy. Be patient.”

“Touch me,” Armin groans. “Now! Please, don’t be an asshole! I really need-“ And then he’s suddenly cut off when his cheeks are spread apart and a familiar orgasmic wetness makes contact with his tender hole.

“Ah,” Armin instantly chokes out, taken by surprise. “Ohhh...!”

Jean’s tongue pokes against his asshole, the tip carefully sliding in as he licks and kisses him, soaking his skin.

“Oh, _Jean_ ,” Armin sobs, feeling his back arch instinctively. He curls up onto the mattress with embarrassment, shocked he’s letting something this amazing go on even while he’s mumbling nonsense into the pillow, his face flushed and burning hot. It’s so humiliating having Jean taste his most intimate areas, and he loves it, oh, how he loves it.

“Why... why would you want to lick me, d-down there?” Armin gasps out.

“Because it makes you feel very good,” Jean whispers against the soaked skin, and his hot breath down there feels like nothing else, can’t be compared to anything.

“But Jean, that’s so _dirty!_ ”

And then he pushes his tongue deeper inside, flicking and wriggling it against the boy’s hot, trembling walls. “Oh... ohhh, don’t stop-“

“So fucking good,” Jean murmurs against him, arousal flooding him when he feels Armin’s thighs tremble beneath him, knees gently knocking together when he thrusts the wet muscle particularly deep. He flicks his tongue as far as he can until Armin flinches and yelps, fingers knotting in the sheets as he wails with mind-numbing pleasure.

_Did I actually manage to hit it?_ Jean wonders, still licking as deep as possible in the hopes of catching his prostate again. And when Armin jumps and gasps loudly, he chuckles to himself, overjoyed at the fact that Armin can feel every single thing he’s doing to him.

He feels the blonde’s inner walls clamping down on his tongue already, his body shuddering as if nearing climax after he’s barely even started. It never ceases to amaze Jean how he can bring the boy to orgasm without so much as touching his cock, whether it’s while he’s thrusting his own organ deep until Armin’s leaving nail scratches on his back or while his tongue slips in and out of him in a perfect, orgasmic rhythm.

“Wait! Wait a sec...” Armin pants, and Jean suddenly stops. “Jean... please fuck me! Please! I’d feel so awful if I came like this without being able to make you feel good too...”

Jean pulls away from him, watching as the young man pants and shivers on top of the bed. “But I’m fine,” he assures him. “I’m fine with just giving you pleasure. I’ll meet my own needs by masturbating.”

“No. No, that’s not fair!” Armin insists. “Come on, Jean... I’m not stupid, I can see it all over your face. You’d do anything to... b-bury yourself inside me while I’m so w-wet down there, right?” He covers his face again, feeling awkward. “Come on... imagine how good I’ll feel around you while I’m so slippery and turned on. It’ll be so easy while I’m like this.”

Jean grins. He lays back onto the bed, watching Armin.

“Get on top of me then, baby.”

Armin looks taken aback. “You want me on top of you?”

“Yeah. I do.” Jean tilts his head back and groans obscenely. “Imagine you sliding your tight little hole up and down my cock, baby. Imagine how amazing that’d feel.”

Armin moans, trembling.

Without a second thought, he dives straight towards him, legs bent around Jean’s hips. He raises his backside until Jean’s tip is aligned with his wet hole, and slowly lowers himself onto it, the organ sliding in with ease.

It feels so wonderful that Armin’s close to crying. He tilts back his head as he sits on his lover’s huge cock, muscles tensed, teeth biting down hard on his lips. He stays like that for a couple of minutes until he manages to adjust to the width inside him, Jean gently grazing his hands along his skin and whispering sweet nothings to him, making him all the more relaxed.

“Armin,” Jean whispers kindly.

“Yeah?”

“Ride me.”

“Ah... yeah,” Armin replies absently, almost as if he’d forgotten what he’s doing. He raises his hips with some effort, hands pushing down against the mattress to support his own weight. He can feel Jean’s cock slowly leaving his body as he does so, and the brunet gasps and pants, finally receiving the stimulation he’s been craving so badly.

And then he lets himself drop, his backside hitting Jean’s hips with force, his cock sinking deeper instantly. Armin cries out loudly.

“Oh, oh god!” Armin wails. “Oh! Damn!”

He begins a half-slow, half-fast rhythm in which he raises himself carefully only to drop down suddenly, Jean’s cock forced into him. He lets out an extremely provocative “ _Unh!_ ” each time he takes it deep into his body, the head slamming into his prostate to the point where tears are forming in his eyes.

“Ah, fuck,” Jean groans loudly, shaky hands reaching forwards to clasp themselves around Armin’s waist. He stares at his abdomen almost as if hoping to spot a bulge where his cock is driving deep, and for a moment he can just see a little something, a little outline of the head on his lower stomach when Armin slams down against him again. “Fuck, baby, that’s amazing.”

“I’m going to end up coming soon,” Armin says breathlessly. “I... can’t stop myself!”

“I don’t mind, it’s fine,” Jean laughs, yet again moaning as his shaft is suddenly enveloped by heat. “Even if you come, I’ll get you in the mood again. We can fuck for as long as you want, baby.”

“Ah,” Armin says. “I just... can’t stop it. It feels so good, I don’t want to slow down. I want to come with you inside me, Jean. I want you to come inside me. I want to see it drip out of me. _Oh,_ Jean.”

He suddenly comes quietly and unexpectedly, a couple of thrusts later when the stimulation just gets too much. He doesn’t moan or scream. He just sits there, arse pressed down against Jean, his cock still deep inside. His inner muscles tense and squeeze around it as he sobs quietly and whimpers, reaching forwards to clasp and grab at Jean with desperation.

Jean thrusts upwards, desperately trying to make their orgasm simultaneous, but he spends so much time watching Armin come that he doesn’t get the chance to finish his own climax until a good two minutes later.

Armin stays in position, the two still connected. He’s huffing and shivering and sweating. He’s on cloud nine.

* * *

Jean wipes him clean as thoroughly as he can, but it’s not easy to get it all out of him. He’d come so deep inside that some of it just can’t be reached, and Armin’s cool with that.

“Hahh,” Armin sighs happily, laying down flat.

“Tired now?” Jean asks.

“No,” the blonde smiles. “Just happy.”

“So...” Jean begins, hoisting the smaller up until he’s leaning on the brunet’s shoulder. “Promise you’ll tell me from now on if there’s something you need?”

Armin’s mind wanders back to earlier when he’d sat around pouting and being a brat when Jean was trying to help him.

“There’s only one issue,” Armin tells him.

“What’s that?”

“Well, Jean... thing is, I’m pretty much horny all the time. Did I tell you my star sign was Scorpio?”

“I already knew that, angel,” Jean grins.

“According to a book I read,” Armin begins, “the key word for Scorpio is “passion”.”


	70. Sweetness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin hurts all over. Jean numbs the pain with his love. <3

“Jean, I... got myself hurt again.”

“Whereabouts?” Jean asks nervously.

“Everywhere...”

“Why do you push yourself beyond your limits, Armin?” the taller boy says, scooting closer to him and resting a hand against the back of his head. “All you can do is your best, you know? Forcing yourself to go beyond what you’re capable of is bound to leave you with an injury or two.”

“Because seeing that I’m the only one who’s not strong enough to properly slice the necks from those titan replica things we use during training makes me hate myself!” he snaps, sobbing into the duvet. “Jean, I am the _only one_ who’s fallen behind, and the only one who’s sprained his back, left thigh and foot in one day.”

He grumbles into the blanket, face-down, arms folded in front of him.

“Are you in pain?” Jean asks gently.

“Yes.”

“Hold on. I’ll go get you a snack,” Jean suddenly says, getting up.

“What good will food do,” Armin complains, voice muffled.

“You probably haven’t noticed yourself, but you aren’t eating enough,” Jean tells him. “You’re a _soldier._ You’re burning thousands of calories every day just through regular training. Part of the reason you’re faltering is because you’re lacking energy.”

“Mmm,” Armin groans, disagreeing.

He hears Jean’s feet pattering on the floor and wonders where the hell he’s going to get food from. It’s three hours until dinner. _Is he going to steal?_ Armin wonders. _I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s tried to do it before, after all._

He almost nods off for a minute or two until he feels a hand gently poking his shoulder. “Here. Sit up, if you can,” Jean’s voice says, and Armin feels the weight of him sitting on his bunk. “I got you something.”

“What is it?” Armin sighs, sitting up. He winces when he does, a sharp pain tweaking up his back.

“It’s your favourite, baby,” Jean smiles warmly, and hands him a large, still-warm chocolate chip cookie.

Armin’s blue eyes brighten in a way Jean’s never seen them before.

“I...” he gasps, holding it and staring in awe as if he hasn’t seen one in years. “Jean, this is my _favourite ever!_ How’d you know? Is it...” He lifts it to his face and sniffs it, sighing happily. “Is it really okay for me to eat this?”

Jean laughs. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, it’s not exactly nutritious,” the blonde says. “We’re supposed to eat well, you know.”

“Armin. Come on, baby. Look me in the face.” And so he does, locking eyes with Jean, who’s grinning. “Can you really look at me straight and tell me you’re not going to eat that damn cookie?”

“I do want to... I really want to.”

“It’s your favourite food! You think eating a cookie is going to harm you? Oh, sweetheart, you’re too careful. Way too careful.”

“I love cookies so so much,” Armin almost sobs, taking a bite out of it and then moaning with bliss. Jean feels his heart melt completely at the sight of him. It’s a rare occurrence, to see someone who’s usually so pensive and quiet actually enjoying himself, to see him smiling. “I haven’t eaten one since I was... ten years old.”

“Makes a change from soggy vegetables and grisly meat, doesn’t it?” Jean says.

“Oh gosh, yes.” He throws his arms around Jean gratefully, hugging him as tight as he can. Pain sears up his arms from his elbows, but he ignores it. “Did you... did you get me this just to cheer me up?”

“Damn right I got it to cheer you up.”

“I thought you were getting me some food because you thought it’d help my injuries heal.”

“Well, I was, but I managed to get my hands on that instead,” Jean explains. “And I remember you saying a while ago that you love cookies so much, and haven’t eaten them in forever. I had to get it for you. You deserve it.”

“Oh, I love you!” Armin says happily, burying his face against Jean. “I _love_ you. You’re too good to me. Way too good to me.”

“Don’t you think you’ve earned this? You work so hard everyday that it’s almost painful to watch,” the brunet says, running his fingers through the boy’s hair fondly. “That, and you’re tiny. I know just from spending so much time around you that you’re under eating.”

“Ahh,” Armin sighs, pressing his face against Jean’s chest. “Ahh. I love you. I love you, so much. You make me feel... taken care of. And safe, and happy. Please, Jean. Don’t ever go away. You always make me feel wonderful.”

Jean just grins, kissing the top of his head. “I’m never going to go away, Armin,” he assures him. “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of us. Because I love you more than anything else in this world, and it’s the little things like this that I never want to stop doing for you.”

“Mmm...” Armin sighs happily, holding Jean even tighter. “That cookie was delicious, Jean.”


	71. The Fantasy of Our Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested by XxJearminxX! It doesn’t lead up to smut in this, but I plan to carry this onto the next chapter, in which we’ll get some... seksi tiems ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on “that” cute scene in the latest chapter! I’d recommend reading it before you read this, but there’s really no spoilers in this, so it doesn’t matter either way :D
> 
> This only took me just over two hours, which is very fast considering I usually spend days on these!! As it turns out, drinking alcohol gives me cute Jearmin inspiration. *cries bc I adore our babies so much even though I doubt they’ll be canon*

“You guys are all precious to me. More than anyone else. That’s why I’d like for you all to live long lives.”

There’s an awkward silence after Eren’s short speech. Armin wonders what’s exactly made them so quiet until he turns around from where he’s driving the train and notices the red flush decorating everybody’s face.

“Why has everyone gone red?!” Jean demands.

“S-sorry...” Eren mumbles.

“Jean,” Armin says. “It’s the glow of the sunset.”

Armin’s a little flushed, too - and for some reason, that annoys Jean. He’s never seen Armin blush like that in any other circumstance. He only blushes like that when they’re in bed together, under the covers, his legs wrapped tight around Jean’s waist, bodies connected so deeply he can barely think. He looks like that right now, and Jean doesn’t like it, regardless of whether or not it’s just because of the sun shining on his face.

Armin notices Jean’s scowl. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing!” Jean says hurriedly. “Just wondering why Eren felt the need to create such an awkward atmosphere.”

“But he’s just been so nice to us,” Armin says, glancing at Eren and then smiling at him kindly.

Jean groans with jealousy. Seeing how Armin and Eren are still so close is too much for him to bear.

“Come and sit down beside me,” Jean insists. “Please, Armin. You’ve been stood there for the past half hour. Get someone else to drive it.”

“Ooh, me, me!” Sasha offers, standing up. “I could drive it! I was looking at the blueprints! I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Armin hesitates before making eye contact with Sasha and seeing the look of enthusiasm on her face. “Okay,” he says, climbing down and taking a seat next to Jean when she takes his place. “But if you’re unsure of any of the controls, you must tell me.”

“I will!” she says happily, and Armin sighs nervously.

The sun’s disappearing. It’s so pretty, with the coral-coloured streaky clouds and orange lighting. Everyone still looks a bit pink in the face. Armin’s certain by now it isn’t just because of the sunset, and the thought alone makes him smile.

“Hey, Jean.” He begins to lean against him.

“Hey, baby.”

“Nice beard.” He reaches up and cups Jean’s chin, feeling the short, spiky hairs against his skin. It’s hardly a _beard_ \- it could barely even be considered stubble - but Armin loves it all the same.

“Hey, don’t touch it,” Jean laughs, throwing his arm around the smaller man. “You’ll mess it up.”

“There’s nothing to mess up.”

“Ohh, someone just got _burrrrned!_ ” Connie laughs. “Right on, Armin! There’s not even any hair.”

“Shut up,” Jean growls, holding the side of Armin’s head and pushing it against his shoulder, facing away from Connie. “Ignore Connie. He’s a bad influence on a good boy like you.”

“Nnnh,” Armin sighs, smiling and leaning against Jean. “Love you, Jean. Let’s talk.”

“What about?”

“About you.”

“What’d you mean, about me?” Jean asks, looking at the others. “Everyone’s sat here listening!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Armin mumbles against his shoulder. “I’m a bit sleepy, Jean. And... I wanna listen to your voice.” Eren shifts uncomfortably, as if the sight of his best friend being infatuated with someone else is hardly bearable. “Let’s talk about back when we were trainees.”

“That’s going back a while,” Mikasa says sleepily.

“I miss our trainee days,” Armin says, gazing up at Jean with eyes so big and so blue that he could cry on the spot. “Back when we used to learn how to ride horses, when we used to go camping, and the bland potato stew, and the times we used to sneak beer into our dorms. I miss it, Jean. Tell me... what were you thinking about, before we properly met? What was going through your head?”

“The bastard wanted to fuck you,” Eren says loudly, glaring at Jean. Connie and Sasha both snigger, but Mikasa remains silent, looking a tad annoyed at the insensitive remark.

“Eren!” Armin scowls. “I’m trying to make polite conversation here.”

“And I’m telling you that- mmph!” Mikasa’s hand is clamped firmly over his mouth. She nods towards Jean and Armin. “Go on,” she says, as if curious.

Jean nods back and turns to Armin. “I... admired you,” he admits softly. “Back when we first signed up, I watched you from a distance. You always seemed so sad, and when Keith Shadis singled you out and said you had a stupid name, I felt horrible.”

“He wasn’t wrong,” Armin insists. “I’m still mad at my grandfather for naming me Armin.”

“That’s besides the point. And anyway, I don’t see what’s wrong with the name Armin,” Jean tells him, puzzled. “My point is, I was so interested in you that I felt bad. I knew I was staring too much, but you’ve always been so cute, Armin. So damn cute that I’d feel my stomach flip whenever you’d enter the room. We’d be sat beside each other in class, and I’d get so excited. I couldn’t stop myself from watching you, from making sure you were alright. I cared about you the moment I spotted you when we first joined the ranks.”

It’s silent. Nobody’s looking at Jean except for Armin, who’s gazing up at him quietly, unsure of what to say.

“Hey, Sasha. You okay driving the train? Need any help?” Connie offers.

“Don’t change the subject!” Jean almost yells. He turns to the small blonde besides him and speaks softly. “Honestly, Armin. I’m telling you. I used to, uh... oh, god, how do I say this...?” When he sees that the others are distracted by Sasha complaining about how she hasn’t eaten for half an hour, he leans towards Armin and decides to whisper something that he’s been meaning to tell him for a long while.

“I used to get boners over you, Armin.”

Armin’s red cheeks aren’t just a result of the setting sun anymore.

“And... I used to think about you whenever I’d masturbate,” Jean says as quietly as possibly. “It’s hard for me to even admit, but... once, I heard you. I heard you... pleasuring yourself. I know I shouldn’t have been listening. But your _voice._ You sounded so aroused and contented. It was so damn cute that I couldn’t help laying awake, I just couldn’t help myself. I was touching myself, and I’m so sorry, so sorry about defiling you like that, my angel. But it’s been on my mind for a few years, and I thought I’d better say it now while I have the chance.”

Armin doesn’t reply for a minute or so, but he’s smiling. The smile gets wider and wider until he’s grinning.

“Oh, Jean,” he says, leaning towards the brunet’s ear. “Oh, Jean, the fact that you’ve told me that has only made me realise how much we’re meant to be, you know.”

Jean could have cried with relief at this. “Oh, thank god. I was so worried, Armin - worried you’d sit there and call me a pervert and a creep.”

“A pervert and a creep?” Mikasa suddenly says. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing much,” Jean splutters.

“Hmm.” She frowns. “Are you sure you’re treating him well, Jean?”

“Yes! Yes, he’s treating me wonderfully!” Armin says quickly. “We were just talking about before we were dating! It’s okay, everything is okay.”

“I see,” she says. “As long as you’re alright, Armin... then I don’t have a problem.”

Jean sighs with relief.

“When we get back,” he says, holding Armin close, “I want to go straight to bed.”

 _That’s code for “I’m gonna fuck your pretty brains out as soon as we’re alone”,_ Armin thinks with an excited smirk.

The idea of Jean masturbating over him has him so horny that he has to sit with his legs crossed, attempting to hide his boner.

The thought of his close friend Mikasa seeing him in an aroused state over Jean is too humiliating to even fathom.


	72. Summer Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad because I left a comment saying I was hoping to update within 24 hours, and it took me closer to 24 DAYS than anything! :( So sorry. This is pretty long and I edited this a lot of times before deciding I was happy with it. I kept adding little bits while tired, only to wake up, realise my writing was crap and delete it. This final piece is the result of heavy editing. :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy. <3

They all sigh, finally relieved to be back home. Armin smiles to himself at how well Sasha had driven the train. They wander into the building within Wall Rose (which, after the retaking of Wall Maria’s land from the titans, was considered to be deep within the walls). It’s more of a hotel than anything. It’s comfortable and relatively spacious, far better than the barracks they recall from years ago. There’s everything they need: comfortable beds, large kitchens, decent bathrooms, soft couches, and best of all... there’s wine. Lots of wine.

“Oh boy, am I so glad I signed up!” Connie yells, completely disregarding social etiquette. Mikasa instantly shushes him, wanting to make a decent impression.

Jean pushes through the door. He strides through the lobby, Armin trailing behind him, the two traipsing up the staircase until they find room 94.

“Finally here,” Armin pants.

Jean gently nudges him, winking and grinning. “That’s right, baby boy,” he says suggestively.

Armin is almost as red as when the sun had been illuminating his face as of previous.

They both wander through the door. “Come on then, Jean,” Armin smirks, flopping backwards onto the bed with a _thump_. He shimmies off his clothes and just lays there in his underwear, limbs spread out. He knows what he’s doing. The adorable little bastard is fucking _laughing_. He’s giggling uncontrollably about Jean’s obvious boner, about the huge stiffness that’s currently decorating his trousers.

“I don’t know how exactly you get me going like this,” the brunet begins, “but you’re so beautiful that all I can do is forgive you.”

“Forgive me for what? For making you horny? Come on, Jean.” Armin smiles seductively, his feelings of arousal overriding his usual shyness and shame. “Jean, have sex with me. I want you to go so deep, to thrust into me as if it’s all you’re worth. Because that’s what you’d always wanted to do, right? You used to watch me, before we became close. Wondering how tight I’d feel around that huge cock of yours. You’d wonder how I’d kiss you while we made love. You used to imagine my tongue lapping at your cock, me gagging obscenely when you shoved it into my mouth, me gazing up at you with big, wet eyes. You wanted to-“

“Ohh!” Jean groans, shuddering. Armin giggles, priding himself on his talent for dirty talk.

This whole scenario doesn’t match Armin’s personality at all, and that fact only turns Jean on even more.

That lovely young man he knows, the one who’d stood there driving the train, smiling, that one who obeys every order - he was finally becoming confident enough to just _enjoy his damn self_ without worrying about how Jean would perceive him.

“You know, I’m proud of you,” Jean whispers, gazing down at him in admiration. “Just look at you. You’d never have been able to do this a couple years ago. I’m so proud of you, baby, for growing to trust me like this.”

“It’s the fruits of your labour,” Armin grins, laying down flat and arching his back seductively. Jean’s so aroused by this that he’s trembling.

“You’re really horny, aren’t you?” Armin smirks.

“Yeah,” Jean groans, quickly stripping down until he’s completely naked, his erection gently bobbing before Armin. “Oh, my baby boy. _Fuck._ Come here, come close - yes, like that - now just let me...” He gently holds Armin by his head, fingers running through the warm, soft spaces between his hair, tilting his head back and opening his mouth. He manages to relax his jaw until it falls open. And then he thrusts forwards as sharply and quickly as he can, the head slamming into the soft flesh at the back of the blonde’s throat, the contact forcing him to gag.

“ACK!” Armin coughs loudly and violently, reeling backwards. “Eghhk-!”

Jean takes one look at him, and feels genuinely awful.

“Oh, shit,” he says apologetically. “Oh, Armin, I’m so sorry.”

“Hah,” Armin wheezes. “I-it’s - ack  
\- it’s fine.”

“I should have been more gentle.”

“It’s... it’s alright,” Armin gasps. “I’m just... sometimes I gag, and I’m scared I’ll be sick...” This makes Jean even more alarmed.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, holding him close. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt your throat? You don’t feel sick, do you? Oh, baby.” He presses kisses against his head, almost forgetting about the fact that his bare erection’s pushing invitingly against Armin’s body. “My sweet baby boy,” he mumbles lovingly.

“Jean,” Armin moans excitedly.

“Yeah?” He lifts him, softly kissing his neck. “You feeling alright, my angel? You okay?”

“Hahhh,” Armin sighs, lost for words at Jean’s sheer caringness. “Yeah, I’m good now.”

Jean grins. “Yeah?” he repeats, seductively.

“Yeah,” Armin moans, wriggling out of Jean’s hold and laying himself flat on the bed again. “Daddy.”

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard for a while,” Jean says.

“Daddy.”

“Yes?”

“Daddy...” Armin mumbles, hiding his face as if he’s shy. “Jean... daddy.”

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want you to enter my body, Jean.”

“Heh. Fucking adorable,” Jean smiles, lowering himself slightly. He looks at Armin from above. “Where’d you want me to enter you?”

“M-my butt...” Armin whines with humiliation.

“Not your mouth?”

“I think you’re just too big for my mouth, if I’m honest.”

“I promise I won’t be so rough next time. I’m going to take care of you, Armin Arlert.”

Armin feels his cock release a small amount of pre just from hearing Jean’s caring words.

“Let’s have sex, Jean,” he says quietly. “It’s been a while. It’s been...” He pauses, thinking. “It’s been months!”

Jean laughs.

“Why are you laughing?!” Armin asks indignantly. “Come _on_ , Jean! I, um, prepared myself, earlier... I emptied my insides, so that we could be intimate. I cleaned myself, Jean, so that you could push into me without any... you know... a-awkwardness.” His face is nearly as red as a strawberry, and Jean feels awful about finding it hilarious.

“I made myself good for you, Jean!” Armin cries out. “Come _on!_ Sex is different between guys! There’s more, you know, thought put into it! So come on, just please, pleasure me, Jean. Make me sob and wail like you always do...”

“Be explicit,” Jean commands.

“I want you to put it all the way in... all eight and a h-half inches of it.”

* * *

The eyes are so handsome. Armin gazes into them, wondering how he’d become so lucky, wondering how things could have played out if he’d never met Jean.

“That red face of yours,” Jean pants as his shaft is enveloped by tight heat, “has nothing to do with the sunset.”

Armin feels his knees grow weak as he gazes at Jean’s face, the breath escaping his lungs. It’s just something he’ll never get used to. It doesn’t matter how many times it’s happened, or how well he’s prepared himself, or how aroused he’s become. Jean’s cock will always seem so huge, _too_ huge, too thick to fit until he finally manages to squeeze it inside. And when he does, Armin always, _always_ wails, always moans and stares up at Jean, face as pink as it had been just half an hour before.

“I... love you, Jean,” Armin whispers as soon as the brunet bottoms out.

“Love you more,” Jean smirks. He thrusts his hips forward despite knowing he’s out of length, and Armin shrieks, feeling him prod further.

“Feels good, Jean,” the blonde murmurs almost incoherently. He shudders slightly as he feels him pull out, only for him to thrust back in at full force, starting a fast, hard rhythm that slams his prostate every single time.

It’s almost too much for him - the pleasure hits suddenly and unexpectedly, forcing him to cry out, forcing tears to form in his eyes.

“Ahhnnh!” Armin screams, his head lolling back, mouth wide open. His fists grab at the sheets and pull them towards his face where he bites down onto them, trying to endure the pleasure. He’s overly sensitive, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to take such a good fucking, wondering why the hell Jean has to make him feel so good all the time.

It’s hot, in every way - the blistering heat of Armin’s insides around Jean, the warmth of their skin brushing together, still hot and slightly pink from spending all day in the sun.

They kiss with passion as Jean rocks his hips forwards again, holding Armin close. They’re panting and giving the occasional muffled moans. They feel each other, taste each other so deeply.

“You’ve gotten a slight tan,” Jean whispers heatedly, raising himself a little to get a better look at Armin’s face while he fucks him.

“I-I have?”

“Yeah.” He smirks and uses the opportunity to thrust extra hard, much to the blonde’s surprise. “Looks pretty good.”

“Tha... thanks,” Armin gasps, barely able to get his words out. “You’re looking a bit darker, too.”

“Am I? I didn’t notice, baby.”

“You’re so hot, Jean,” Armin moans, suddenly realising the position he’s in, laying down on the smooth, cool sheets with his legs wrapped around such a toned and muscular back. His eyes widen as he stares up at Jean, the extent of his luck quickly dawning on him. _I’m actually dating this gorgeous man,_ Armin thinks lustfully, still hardly able to believe this is happening even after all these years. _The man I love and admire more than anyone is here with me, having sex with me, bringing me such joy._

He jerks back then, an extremely loud moan flooding into the room as soon as his prostate is hit once again, sending streams of cum onto Jean’s stomach. He doesn’t mean to come so early, he really doesn’t - especially considering Jean’s nowhere near done yet. But it’s so good, _too_ good to the extent where holding back his orgasm isn’t an option.

“Baby, did you just come?” Jean asks, looking down when he feels the wetness on his skin. He stills, gazing at Armin.

“Yeah,” Armin says, embarrassed.

“That good?”

“What?”

“Was it that good?” Jean grins, chuckling and kissing the top of his lover’s head.

“I just needed to,” Armin whispers. “I’m sorry. You can still, um, carry on if you want.”

“I don’t want you to be over sensitive,” the brunet says, gently pulling out. “I know how tender you get when you come. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Oh...” Jean’s so sweet towards him, and something about that is impossibly adorable, and kind of rare in the sense that he’s never shown such sweetness towards anyone other than Armin.

The smaller reaches upwards as Jean climbs off of him. He clasps his fingers around Jean’s cock, much to the latter’s surprise. “Let me make you come, too,” Armin says softly.

Jean simply grins. He sits upright, kneeling before Armin, who rolls over so that he’s lying on his stomach before Jean. He raises his head and gently licks the tip, wanting desperately to use his mouth in some way but not wanting to gag like he had previously.

“Is this okay, though?” Armin asks quietly. “You know, after what we just did.”

“Huh?”

“I’m thinking hygiene-wise. You’ve just been in my ass,” Armin groans. “I... don’t really fancy licking it.”

“It’s fine!”

“It’s _not_ fine!”

“You want me to wash it or something?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Jean sighs and shakes his head slowly as he gets up, eyes fixated on Armin. “Alright... just give me a minute,” he says, wandering into the bathroom.

_Isn’t that common sense, though?_ Armin wonders. _It may have been me it was inside, and I’m the one whose mouth is coming into contact with it, but still... it just seems... kinda gross._

“Okay, I rinsed myself,” Jean says, re-emerging a couple minutes later. “And I used soap, so if my dick tastes nasty, I’m sorry.”

The blonde laughs. “I don’t care, Jean. Let me pleasure you. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t endangering my health.”

The taller kneels onto the bed, his cock filling with blood again until it stands hard before Armin, begging to be touched.

“So good,” Jean whispers as Armin gently pumps his hand along the shaft, pulling back the foreskin and enveloping the pink head with his lips. He sucks at it gently, hands squeezing around the organ, Jean shuddering and sighing with pleasure. He jolts occasionally, particularly when Armin catches his tongue against the sensitive slit, shockwaves of pleasure filling every fibre of his being.

Armin quickens his movements, smiling with pride when Jean tenses and _groans_ , nearing his own climax. It didn’t take much more after that, not after fucking Armin, after the pretty pink lips had sucked at the tip so sweetly.

Armin raises his head, staring up at Jean. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, and when Armin gives a nod of consent, Jean tugs on his boner a little more and allows his seed to spill onto the blonde’s cute face.

He flinches and blinks. It’s warm. It’s very wet, and trails down slightly, along the curve of his round cheeks. It feels sticky, and for a moment Armin almost feels ashamed for acting filthily.

He can hear Jean sighing and hissing with satisfaction as a couple more drops spray onto his face. And once he’s done, he falls back onto the bed, grinning.

“You look cute like that.”

Armin glares. “I look filthy and you damn well know it.”

“Yeah. It’s cute.”

“This just doesn’t suit me.”

“Why’d you let me do it then?”

“Because I like the feeling of it.”

“You like feeling me cum on your face?” Jean asks, as if surprised.

“Yeah. It’s warm and cool at the same time.”

Jean grins. “You’re adorable, Armin.”

It’s quiet. The window is open, and they can hear some crickets chirruping softly outside.

“I’ll wipe you down,” Jean finally says, getting up and wandering into the small bathroom. “It’ll dry if I don’t. I’m pretty messy, too.”

“Thanks, Jean.”

He returns with a piece of tissue. He dabs gently at Armin’s face, admiring him as he does so.

“Wow,” Armin says, feeling slightly gross. “We... really need a bath now.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Now, Jean.”

“Later,” the taller groans. “I’m so knackered. It’s shocking what a good orgasm can do to you.”

Armin leans against him then, pouting slightly as if ticked off by something.

“Sorry about coming so early.”

“It’s fine,” Jean laughs. “I prefer when you come before me. As long as I can give you pleasure, it doesn’t matter. I just want to make you feel great, angel.”

“Ahh,” Armin sighs, slowly becoming more and more relaxed. “You’re too nice, Jean... maybe you should treat everyone the way you treat me.”

“Nobody else deserves it,” Jean insists. Maybe he’s biased, and maybe he’s just looking at him through rose tinted glasses, but no matter how different they are, he just can’t see Armin as anything else other than an angel.


	73. The Very First Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That first burst of confidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently on the other side of the world!! I go home tomorrow, but I’ve been in Australia for two weeks, and I’ve gone out to soooo many different places every single day. Bad excuse for no uploads, I know - especially considering I had a 20 hr plane journey to write fics! That aside, please enjoy. Something urged me to write our sweet boys’ first time engaging in anything intimate. <3

The air had been heavy, so heavy it was almost tangible. Everything was thick, warm, a little sweaty. Their breaths had become louder and deeper, chests extending and drawing back in a perfect rhythm. Armin felt Jean’s heart thudding against his arm. It was so pronounced that it almost felt as though it would beat out of his chest.

“S-so...” Armin says shakily, trembling. “Umm.”

“Yeah?” Jean whispers.

“Now what?”

“Anything you want.”

“I don’t really know how boys... do stuff.”

“Aha,” Jean giggles, shifting to hold Armin closer. He’s shrouded him almost completely now. His hot breath makes Armin tremble even more. “You’re adorable.”

“Jean,” Armin whispers.

“Yeah? You alright, baby? Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to go all the way, you know.”

“I know...”

“Then why’re you nervous?”

Armin buries his face into the pillow, using his long hair to cover the rest of his expression.

“I’m embarrassed to show you my body.”

“But I’ve seen your figure before! Loads of times. It’s so cute and pretty.”

“But you haven’t seen me... d-down there,” Armin mumbles, blushing hard. “It’s scary because I haven’t shown you before. You haven’t even touched it.”

“Ah. True,” Jean says, leaning back a little for fear of coming across as intimidating. He squeezes Armin’s hand. “You don’t have to do anything, okay? I’m serious. I love you, Armin, and I’d hate nothing more than to make you feel under pressure. I just... really want to be able to make you feel pleasure.”

Armin squeals and hides himself again, bashful from Jean’s words. “S-sorry!” Jean says hurriedly. “I know, saying it out loud makes it more awkward.” He hugs the smaller tightly, hushing him gently. “It’s alright, baby. You can guide me, if you want. We don’t have to talk much if it’s making you embarrassed.”

Armin nods, smiling a little.

“Jean?”

“Mmhm?”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

There’s a pause until Armin takes a deep breath and decides on what he really wants.

A shaky hand clasps gently around Jean’s wrist. He moves it slowly towards him until it rests on his bare stomach, beneath his shirt. Jean’s gazing at him intently, heart pounding with anticipation. He’d been wanting to explore his lover’s sweet body for so long now.

“Mmm,” Jean sighs deeply when Armin continues to guide his hand and tucks it into the waistband of his own trousers. It’s incredibly warm beneath his clothing, a hot fleshiness poking against his hand from beneath his underwear. Jean can feel himself hardening too, now that Armin’s letting him touch him, letting him come into contact with the gently throbbing heat he’s been desperate to feel for all this time.

Armin removes his own hand then and lets Jean’s palm rest against his covered member. It feels so sensitive, so foreign to be touched by someone else.

“You alright?” Jean asks, still feeling a little awkward about feeling his partner in such an intimate area but loving it all the same.

“Yeah,” Armin whispers.

The brunet’s fingers clasp gently, searching for a familiar shape until he manages to wrap them around the warm shaft. Armin makes a small noise in response.

“Can you feel that?”

Armin nods.

“I’m not going too fast, am I?”

“Not at all.”

“Phew,” Jean says. He squeezes gently, priding himself when Armin gives a quiet but earnest “Un _ngh-!_ ”

“Oh!” Armin gasps, surprising even himself. Jean grins and feels around a little further, fingers carefully tucking into his underwear and making contact with the smooth, hot skin of his member. The inside of his wrist brushes against soft wispy curls of pubic hair just above, and it tickles.

The smaller of the two whimpers and writhes. Jean’s large, slim fingers are cool and smooth against his cock, absolutely _wonderful_ but sending him into a frenzy of embarrassment all the same.

“Jean,” Armin pants. “Jean, this... this feels so weird.”

“You want me to stop?” Jean asks worriedly.

“No, I’m okay at the moment. It’s good. I just have to get used to this. It feels good.”

“Sweet boy,” Jean whispers, proud of him.

He continues to explore him, a little surprised when his fingers brush against his tip, only to find the tender glans exposed and void of the skin he’d expected to find. It feels different to his own.

“Are you circumcised?” Jean asks.

“Y-yeah.” Armin awkwardly glances from left to right, not wanting to make eye contact. “I-it was my choice. I just... prefer the way it looks.”

“Ah. I see.” He smiles gently at him, carefully rubbing him with his fingertips and watching to see his reaction.

“Hah,” Armin gasps. “Oh...”

“Is that good? Right here?” Jean asks, his eyes sparkling. He repeatedly runs his thumb over the tip, feeling it twitch. “Is that the spot?”

“Yes,” Armin whispers, smiling. “Yes... _Jean._ ”

“Can I take these off?” he asks, gesturing to Armin’s clothing. He’s getting so excited by the sound of his lover’s breathy voice, getting so desperate to see and touch and feel every inch of Armin’s body.

“You can.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

Jean hesitates and slides his hand back out from beneath his clothing.

“You promise me you’re okay with this, angel?”

Armin laughs, and the sound of his increase in confidence is music to Jean’s ears. “I want this so much that I’m starting to wonder why I’ve been so nervous about it all along.”

“Do you feel better now you’ve realised how I can make you feel?” Jean says seductively, carefully peeling off his trousers and then his shirt. Armin simply lays there staring up at him, eyes half-lidded and face pink while he pants with desire.

“Take them off,” Armin asks breathily, raising his hips to encourage Jean to strip him completely. He tugs them down, loving the way his boner springs upwards as he does and rests against his abdomen, heavy and hard.

This is the gorgeous, sinful, fucking beautiful sight Jean has been wanting to see for longer than he can recall.

* * *

“Mmm. Jean, I love y- ah! Ahhn...”

Jean’s probably just doing what he knows is pleasurable to do to himself, but the fact that he’s trying so hard to make their first intimate moment special and memorable makes Armin fall in love all over again.

“Oh! _Oohh_ -“

He’s right above him, looming over him to watch his chest rise and fall, to watch his brows furrow and his mouth gape with each soft moan.

“I’m so happy that we made it this far,” Jean says, gazing at Armin with admiration as he pleasures him. “You’d never have wanted to do this just a couple months ago.”

The blonde simply nods, not entirely focused on Jean’s words. Maybe it’s because he’s never been touched by another person before, but he’s so sensitive and responsive, unused to the feeling of another hand running up and down his cock.

“I-I think I might come soon, Jean...”

“Want me to slow down?”

“No!” Armin tells him, louder than he’d intended. “No, please, don’t slow down!”

He raises his legs slightly and wraps them around Jean’s waist, turning himself on even more. He closes his eyes for a few moments, imagining that Jean’s not just touching him, but is inside him, that the two are several months ahead and comfortable enough to have penetrative sex. He hasn’t seen Jean’s length yet, but he knows it’ll be bigger than his own average six inches or so, perhaps too big for him to ever take in.

“You alright?” Jean asks when Armin stays silent for a few minutes, laid down with his eyes closed.

“Yeah.”

“You happy?”

“Very.”

“You look so sweet and relaxed,” the brunet praises, slowing his movements against the blonde’s cute cock. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Liar.”

Then he speeds up again, wringing a sharp “ _Ohh!_ ” from Armin’s throat. “A liar, huh?” Jean smirks. “Nobody calls me a liar and gets away with it.”

“Jean, wait, I’m close,” Armin gasps. “Oh, god-!”

It’s no use. It doesn’t matter how much he whimpers or squirms - he’s coming within seconds. It’s so much more intense than when he touches himself, and it’d happened a lot sooner, too. He absently realises that, after having experienced Jean’s amazing touch for the first time, he might never be able to make himself come ever again without help.

“Damn it,” Armin pants, looking down and realising he’s ejaculated all over himself. “Oh, my god.”

“Good, huh?” Jean grins.

“Too good, it seems. Just look at this...”

“I’ll clean up.”

“What? But it’s _my_ mess!”

“You’re telling me you’ll actually be able to walk to the bathroom after coming like that?” Jean says amusedly, glancing down at Armin’s still-quivering knees.

Armin sighs defeatedly, eyes fluttering closed again. That familiar, comforting, hot tiredness is starting to rush over him, and all of a sudden his interest in being touched in any remotely sexual way has completely diminished. He’s satisfied. So, so satisfied.

But that only gives him another idea.

“Hey, Jean?” Armin says suddenly, sitting up.

“What?”

Armin is smiling mischievously, every ounce of fear having dissipated completely.

“While we’re at it, I should try and make you come for the first time, too.”


End file.
